Brave Belgians

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Brave Belgians

From the French of

Baron C. Buffin

By

Alys Hallard

Preface by

Baron de Broqueville

Belgian Minister of War

Awarded the Audiffred Prize by the French Academy of Moral and Political Science

G. P. Putnam's Sons

New York and London

The Knickerbocker Press

1918

Copyright, 1918

BY

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

The Knickerbocker Press, New York

Foreword

St. Pierrebrouck.
January 15, 1916.

My dear Friend:

I am glad to hear that you have now completed the work you undertook of collecting, from our soldiers themselves, these accounts of the war. They will certainly help people to know, and to appreciate, what you so rightly call our heroic and valiant Belgium.

You could not have employed your talent and activity in a better way. As it is not yet possible to write the History of the tragic days we are living, it is highly necessary to collect the most striking episodes, and to prevent the loss of testimony to which posterity can appeal when it wishes to judge the men and things of our times. The accounts that you have collected so patiently help us to live over again the whole campaign, from the startling revelation which the glorious days of Liége were for many of us, down to the hard moments through which our army is passing in its victorious defence of the Yser.

"The determined resistance," our King called it in his memorable speech to Parliament. How we see this determined resistance in the magnificent enthusiasm of our soldiers, arresting, around the Liége forts, the first wave of invaders, without troubling about the human torrent rolling onwards towards them from the whole of Germany! How we see it, too, in the tragic episodes of the invasion, in the bold adventures of our volunteers, in those glorious deaths of which your book reminds us, deaths of which we cannot think without a pang at our hearts!

Your accounts prove to us how the unanimous will of the nation galvanised the army and how the example of our chiefs, from the King down to the merest sub-lieutenant, encouraged and brought about the most noble self-sacrifices. These accounts prove to us, thanks to many details of episodes lived through during these eighteen months of war, what a quantity of virtues our magnificent little army, brave and studious as it is, held in reserve for the hour of danger.

Well-known figures and deeply regretted friends are evoked in these pages by their sorrowful comrades. These rapid sketches, written in campaign diaries by those who shared the same dangers and sacrificed everything to the same cause, have a special value. The modesty of the man who tells the story is still another homage rendered to the whole Corps, and it is to the Army, to the traditional, disciplined, national force, that our admiration goes out, when we read of the fine deeds described in this book.

On reading it, the country will better understand the affection and respect it owes to the soldier from whom it may demand, some future day, all that those of our day have endured and given.

In your former book, you retraced for us the early life of Leopold I., our first king. When I congratulated you on your conscientious work, in depicting for us the early days of the man who has very justly been called Leopold the Wise, I little thought that you would soon be the chronicler of the army of his grandson, acknowledged by the whole world, as the champion of loyalty and honour, the incarnation of an oppressed and valiant country.

How times have changed since then!

The horizon is brightening, though, and I hope that, in order to complete your work, you may be able to connect the past with the present and sketch for us the History of this gigantic struggle, in which the indomitable courage of the Belgians, led by Albert I., will have preserved, for our country, the Independence, and the Liberty that the political spirit of our fathers had won for it under the reign of Leopold.

Accept, my dear friend, my best wishes,

Broqueville.

CONTENTS

Brave Belgians

[CHAPTER I]

The Defence of Visé

From the Account Given by Deputy Staff Major Collyns of the 12th Line Regiment[1]

In order that the reader may have a connected idea with regard to the episodes related in the following chapters, the main lines of the preliminaries of the war must be remembered. On the 2nd of August, 1914, at 7 P.M., Germany presented an ultimatum to Belgium. The Belgian Government replied at 7 A.M. the following day that "it would resist, by all means within its power, any attempt to violate the rights of Belgium."

On the morning of the 4th of August, the German extreme right, composed of 12 Regiments of Cavalry and of Battalions of Chasseurs, brought in motor-cars, crossed the frontier and endeavoured to seize the Visé bridge. This attempt did not succeed. The enemy then extended its movement in a northerly direction, crossed the Meuse at the Lexhe ford and endeavoured to crush the resistance of the fortified place of Liége. On the 5th of August, troops of the 3rd, 4th, and 7th Corps made an assault on that part of the defence front comprised between the Meuse and the Vesdre. Before the Barchon, Evegnée, and Fléron Forts, the assailants were driven back with sanguinary losses. Between the Barchon Fort and the Meuse, the 7th Corps broke through the lines, but it was counter-attacked by the 11th Brigade with a bayonet charge, and thrown back in absolute disorder in the direction of the Dutch frontier.

Fresh assaults began in the night between the 5th and 6th of August. Fresh troops belonging to the 8th, 9th, 10th, and 11th Corps took part, and the attack extended over the whole ground between the Liers Fort and the Meuse, above Liége, that is on a front of about 22 miles.

The Belgian troops had to face danger on every side at the same time and, after a most heroic defence, the 3rd Division fell back, exhausted. The Forts continued to resist and the last one fell on the 17th of August.

During the night of August 1-2, 1914, Lieutenant-General Leman, Military Governor of the fortified position of Liége, entrusted to me the defence of the Visé and Argenteau bridges. It was an important mission, as German forces were massed at the frontier and were preparing to violate our neutrality.

I hurried to the barracks, called up my Battalion[2] of about four hundred men, and started for Visé, where I arrived at seven in the morning. The whole day was taken up in organising the defence. A company was placed at each of the bridges of Visé and Argenteau, which are about two miles apart; a platoon of about thirty men were told off to guard the Lixhe ford, about six miles to the north; outposts were sent to the right bank of the river, with instructions to send out patrols and reconnaissances in the direction of the frontier. The rest of the Battalion remained in reserve at Haccourt. The soldiers were enthusiastic and had perfect confidence. Most of them looked upon the war as a kind of pleasure party, which would relieve the monotony of their barrack life, and their good humour increased, thanks to the cordial welcome they received from the population.

In the evening, Captain Chaudoir arrived with about sixty men. He was in command of the Mounted Chasseurs of the Liége Civic Guard. They were all brave fellows, courageous and ready for anything, but their equipment was very defective and they were even short of rifles. I accepted their services, nevertheless, and entrusted them with the surveillance of the valleys of the Meuse and the Geer.

The inhabitants of Visé also offered their help.

"I am a good shot," said a lawyer, "and I want to do my share. Put me in the firing line."

"No, I cannot have any civilians," I replied, categorically, and I sent them all away.

On the following day, August 3rd, M. Delattre arrived. He is an engineer, a specialist in explosives, and he had been sent by the Staff to attend to the obstruction of the right bank of the river and the destruction of the bridges. Groups of workmen, under his orders, felled trees with which to bar the roads, placed mines in the piles and, in short, put everything in readiness for the blowing up of the bridges, if necessary.

This fresh responsibility did not by any means lessen my anxiety. It was very difficult to realise what the situation really was. The most extraordinary rumours circulated and were believed, no matter how improbable they might seem. The Staff of the 3rd Army Division announced to me, by telephone, that German troops had crossed the Netherlands and were advancing through Limbourg. Thanks to the telephonic communication I had established with the gendarmerie stations, and with Lieutenant de Menten, who was on the watch with a platoon of the 2nd Lancers, near the Dutch frontier, I obtained exact information with regard to the enemy's movements, and was able to let the Commander of the Division know that the rumours were inexact. They had been invented by Boche spies, and circulated by scaremongers. Towards evening, General Leman warned me that two divisions of the enemy's cavalry had invaded our territory. He ordered me to blow up the Visé and Argenteau bridges. I transmitted the order to Delattre and, whilst he was making his final arrangements, I withdrew my outposts from the right bank of the river and, for fear of accidents, proceeded to evacuate the houses in the vicinity. When everything was quite ready, Delattre came to me.

"You can make your mind easy," he said, "we have taken the precaution to put a double charge, so that whatever——"

The sound of an explosion interrupted his speech and we both hurried away full of confidence. Our disappointment can easily be imagined, for great blocks of macarite had not exploded. The Visé bridge was weakened, but it was still practicable for carriages. At Argenteau, I was told, the result was no better.

"Bad work!" declared a Sergeant, who appeared to be as mortified as I was. Several civilians were jeering. I pitched into them and that soothed my nerves.

We made use of the telephone at once and asked the Staff at Liége to send us fresh explosives immediately. The delay seemed to us interminable and we wondered whether we should be surprised by the enemy.

The motor-cars arrived at last. We placed the powder, and by six o'clock all the necessary measures were taken. This time the explosion was formidable. Great blocks of stone, a cubic yard in diameter, were flung two hundred yards away. The middle of the bridge, about fifty yards in length, fell into the Meuse.

A most unfortunate accident now happened. The shock produced by the explosion destroyed the telegraphic and telephonic lines and interrupted all communications. I wondered what was to be done. Was my mission ended, as the bridges no longer existed? Ought I to return to our fortified position of Liége or stay and defend the passages of the river?

None of the couriers I sent to General Leman came back. I was therefore obliged to decide for myself. I was there and I determined to stay there. At daybreak, on the 4th, I endeavoured to complete the defence by utilising the houses overlooking the bridges, as from them it would be possible to fight the enemy on the opposite bank of the river. My information service left much to be desired. From time to time, my soldiers crossed the river, in two little boats which we had discovered by chance, and went in search of news. It was in this way that I learnt the fact that an important corps of the enemy's cavalry was at Berneau and that it was followed, at a short distance by a strong force of infantry.

Suddenly, we heard a buzzing overhead and a Taube appeared in the sky. For a few minutes the sinister bird hovered over us, flinging down General von Emmich's proclamations. It then returned to the enemy's lines, taking back very inexact information. In the first place, it could not see my troops hidden behind the houses, and it is very possible, thanks to its height, that it did not see that the bridge was destroyed, as the middle part was lying downwards in the Meuse.

Warned by the aëroplane I modified my arrangements and collected all my forces at Visé, with the exception of one Company which I had left at Argenteau. It was very fortunate that I acted in this way, as, at one o'clock, some Death's Head Hussars appeared in sight and, without any hesitation, made straight for the bridge. My soldiers watched them anxiously, their fingers on the triggers of their guns. "Wait," I said, "wait, let them come nearer." As soon as I saw them on the first part of the bridge, I yelled out "Fire!" "Piff! Paff! Piff! Paff!" ... With the sudden crackling sound of the firing, the terrified horses reared, kicked, and struggled, and the horsemen rolled into the river; others, turning quickly around, rushed into the ranks that were following, collided with them and, in wild flight, escaped through the fields of clover and oats. All was helter-skelter! Just at this moment, heavy firing began from the houses on the right bank near the river. Unseen by us, some Germans had entered these buildings and were now protecting the retreat of their cavalry. From one bank to the other, the firing continued at intervals, but without much damage on either side. During a lull, I called out to my brave men: "Permission to grill one!" Ah, how joyfully they revelled in that cigarette! The baptism of fire had not produced the least emotion. They were all smiling and joking with each other, and as soon as the enemy recommenced the firing, the combat continued as gaily as possible.

Sheltered by a wall, their jerseys unbuttoned, the men of my reserve contingent were fortifying themselves by devouring bread and butter. The idea suddenly occurred to me to try an experiment. "Well," I said, "are you not proud to take part in the firing? As you see, we have stopped the Boches. It is not finished, though, and just now I shall want three of you, three of the bravest, who fear nothing. Who volunteers?" Before I had finished speaking, every one of them shouted: "I do, Major."

The German artillery had now come into line. Two or three batteries on the slopes of Fouron, to the north-east of Visé, had opened fire. In spite of my men's courage, I felt it was necessary to stimulate them a little. They were only four hundred strong and, without artillery or machine-guns; they were fighting an enemy infinitely superior. I went to all the different shelters and affected the most hilarious gaiety.

"We are going to have fine fun," I said to them. "The Boches have never yet managed to fire straight with their cannons, and their projectiles will fall everywhere except in the houses we are occupying." This succeeded very well and the men greeted the German shrapnels, which were bursting at tremendous heights, with laughter. My joy was great, for if the artillery had fired straight into the houses, our position would have been impossible and we should have been obliged to retreat. Ah, if we had only had a few guns, how many of our adversaries we should have brought down!

During the combat, some of the horsemen of the Civic Guard told me that a huge infantry column had crossed the Meuse, north of Visé and that a battery was already directing its firing on us. This news seemed all the more probable, as we heard a cannonading which appeared to be coming from a height on the left bank. Isolated as we were, and not having received any instructions, my situation was extremely disquieting. In order to protect my retreat, I gave orders to the 2nd Company to prevent, by its firing, any movement of the enemy southwards. To the 1st Company, I gave orders to go towards Hallembaye and strengthen the outpost at Lixhe and, at the same time, to observe how the land lay towards the north.

Presently the 2nd Company had to undergo such violent firing from musketry and machine-guns that Captain François, who was in command, was obliged to evacuate certain houses along the Meuse, as the walls were pierced by the balls. Captain Burghraeve, too, in command of the 1st Company, sent me word that the German artillery was sending a veritable storm of shells of every calibre on to the troops that were defending the Lixhe ford, and that the men, lying down under each fresh burst, were unable to reply, and still more unable to observe the country round. It was, therefore, possible for the Germans to cross the Meuse without being seen by them so that he could not warn me. "Hold out," I replied, "it is all right!" At the same time, I continued encouraging my brave men who were resisting energetically at Visé.

By 4.30, the development of the enemy's front was getting more and more extensive. The weakness of my forces, part of which could do nothing on account of the adverse firing, made me decide to evacuate my position, under cover, at the different points occupied, of our rear-guard. This retreat took place in perfect order, without the enemy being aware of it. The 1st Company, in spite of its dangerous situation, also succeeded in withdrawing, group by group. The Lixhe post was now the only one to cause us any anxiety.

Crouching down in the beet-root fields, our comrades awaited a lull in the steel whirlwind, in order to get up and make a rush forward. Fifty yards farther on, they threw themselves down again. The German artillery increased its firing, the earth shook, and clouds of dust flew about everywhere. With intense emotion, I watched this terrible race. Finally, thank God, they were all there with us. The soldiers had their coats, shakos, and kits pierced with balls. Two men saw the bicycles they were holding shattered by shells. By the most unheard-of good luck, not one of them was wounded.

Our total losses amounted to two men killed and ten wounded. The inhabitants of Visé told us afterward that the enemy had suffered greatly, and that a number of carts took away their wounded.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Now Lieutenant-Colonel, Commander of the 1st Line Regiment.

[2] The Battalion, at the moment, consisted of four contingents of militia, as the general mobilisation, decreed on July 31st, was not yet complete.

[CHAPTER II]

The First German Flag Taken

(August 5, 1914)

From the Account Given by Deputy Staff Major Collyns of the 12th Line Regiment

On leaving Visé, I went to Milmort, where, on August 5th, I received an order from General Leman to go immediately to Wandre and to prevent, at any cost, the Germans crossing the bridge over the Meuse.

On arriving, I made a brief survey of the position. As my Battalion was only four hundred strong, the defence meant principally the construction of barricades and the utilising of houses and walls for firing obliquely and from all sides over the bridge of the Meuse, over the canal bridge to the west, and over the roads leading to these bridges. With feverish activity, the soldiers set to work. In the various houses indicated, they broke the window-panes, arranged the bedding and sacks of earth against the windows, in order to shelter those who were firing. They then dragged carts, carried planks of wood and barrels, and all kinds of other material, to the bridge over the Meuse, piling everything up in such a way as to leave only a narrow passage, scarcely sufficient for one man to cross at a time.

A barricade was then put up on the road from Herstal to Vivegnis. The walls of the cemetery, a huge rectangle between the road and the canal, were pierced to form loopholes and so transformed into a regular redoubt. In a very short time, my men were posted behind the windows of the houses and the loopholes of the cemetery, with their Mausers ready, on the lookout for the enemy.

These preparations evidently interfered with the plans of the Germans and their spies set to work to move us away. One of their agents transmitted to me, by telephone, an order from the Staff to leave Wandre. As I had received an order to defend the bridge at any cost, I was greatly surprised and asked at once for communication with Headquarters.

"I have given no such instructions," answered General Leman, in reply to my question. "Is Collyns still there and can I count on him?" I assured the General that I should on no account leave there without his express order to do so.

On returning to the bridge, to my great amazement, I saw some men taking away the carts which formed our barricade. I called out to them furiously and asked what they were doing. They informed me that they were merely obeying an order they had received from the Superintendent of Police. I asked the latter what he meant by interfering.

"There is no knowing what to do," he answered, angrily. "The General has just telephoned to me to have the bridge cleared."

"Look here," I replied, "I am going to give an order now to the sentinels to shoot down every man who touches the barricades, and I shall hold you responsible for what happens."

My energetic attitude took effect and there was no further attempt to disobey my orders.

The remainder of the day, August 5th, passed without any other incident. Fearing a night attack, I arranged for a new system of lighting. I had some piles of straw soaked in tar and placed at various points, out of sight of the enemy, giving orders to the sentinels to set fire to them in case of an alert.

No information reached me except that the enemy was bombarding the Forts violently. As a matter of fact, my position at the Wandre bridge constituted a second line of defence, for, at a certain distance in front of us, fortress troops occupied the ground between the Pontisse Fort and the Meuse. I had not much faith in the value of these soldiers, as they belonged to our former recruiting system.

They had left their regiments years ago and had only been under arms again four days. My estimation turned out to be true. At midnight, a sustained firing was suddenly heard in front of us and, very soon after, the fortress troops endeavoured to reach the town by the roads I was defending. I rushed forward to meet them and ordered them to return to their position, threatening to shoot those who disobeyed. They started back, but the darkness prevented my seeing whether they really returned to their posts, or whether they slipped round on our left flank.

Towards one o'clock, my sentinels fired and, immediately, the bonfires were lighted. An intense firing then took place, principally from the Herstal-Vivegnis road. The German musketry and machine-guns replied. A few minutes later, the firing was less intense and was heard farther away. The enemy had been obliged to retreat, but, before long returned in greater force, by parallel streets. Once more our firing compelled them to retreat. They then rushed into the gardens, passed through the houses and advanced along the street which cuts the Herstal-Vivegnis road perpendicularly. This street was simply swept from one end to the other by our soldiers, hidden in the houses skirting the right of the square. After suffering frightful losses, the Germans were obliged to escape and take shelter in the gardens. Fresh troops appeared and attempted to force the passage. The attacks continued uninterruptedly. Mingled with the sound of the orders, of the shouts and cries of "Forward!" could be heard the firing of the guns and the dull thud of bodies falling to the ground. Whole groups of German foot-soldiers were lying in the streets, at equal distances, their hands clenching the butt end of their guns, guarding their ranks even in death. They lay there, showing their breasts, torn open by the balls, and their hideous wounds. Blood trickled over the footpaths and over the roads, there was blood on the fronts of the houses, blood everywhere. Huge flames from the bonfires lighted up this scene of carnage. The flames danced, jumped, mingled with each other in golden wreaths, throwing long shadows which seemed to be climbing and running along the walls....

Gradually, the adversaries' vigour weakened, their efforts diminished, and there were long intervals between the attacks. As soon as the heads of the assaulting columns came within reach of our firing, they were mown down. The rest disbanded and, rushing in all directions, hid in the gardens and cellars. During a lull, a few of my brave men explored the surrounding district and, a few minutes later, the soldier Lange brought me the flag of the 89th Regiment of Mecklenburg Grenadiers, which he had found just below the houses facing the Vivegnis road. The Colonel, the Adjutant-Major, the standard bearer, and a number of officers were lying there near their glorious trophy. I seized the flag and went forward to my soldiers crying: "Victory! Victory!" There was wild enthusiasm and, spontaneously, they burst out with our national anthem: the Brabançonne, and shouts of "Long live the King! Long live Belgium! Long live the Major!" The officers hurried to me to congratulate me and, I may as well confess it, in a state of excitement that made my soldiers forget all hierarchy, they rushed to me and grasped my hand. Ah, the brave fellows!

The firing became less and less violent and, towards eight in the morning, the enemy beat a final retreat. A strange man-hunting chase then began in the little gardens of the houses. There were Boches hidden in the bushes, crouching down behind heaps of leaves. Some of them held up their hands, crying, "Comrades, do not shoot!" Others, on the contrary, fought to the last. In one garden, a dozen of them refused stubbornly to surrender, and were massacred. After confiding the flag to Engineer Hiard, who undertook to take it to General Leman, I went through the streets of the town. Stretcher-bearers were carrying away the Germans or dressing their wounds. Near the square, I witnessed a very painful scene. As one of the stretcher-bearers approached, a German officer raised his pistol. Our man snatched it from him, but, whilst he was calling one of his colleagues to help him, the Boche drew out his pocket-knife and cut his own throat. There were helmets, swords, guns, and fragments of all kinds of things strewing the ground and I could not resist the temptation of sending a little collection to the Liége Town Hall.

Just at that moment, I heard some alarming news. I was told that there had been an attempt to assassinate General Leman; that the Germans had entered Liége, that they already occupied Herstal, and that they threatened to bar our way. In spite of our success, our situation was extremely perilous. Whatever might happen, I had given my solemn promise to General Leman that I would hold the bridge and I was determined to keep my word. I sent word to the Governor telling him what my position was. I told him that the Germans had retreated and were probably within a certain distance of my lines, that I saw the possibility of going forward and throwing them back under the firing of the Pontisse Fort, but that I could not undertake this attack, unless I could be sure that the heights of Wandre, situated on the right bank, were in the possession of our troops, as otherwise I should be exposed to the enemy crossing the bridge and getting at us from the other side. I sent three cyclists, one after the other, to Headquarters but, to my great disappointment, I received no answer and so did not dare leave our shelter.

Towards ten o'clock, Captain Grossman arrived. He was formerly an officer of my Battalion and now, since the mobilisation, he was in the 2nd Battalion of the 32nd Line Regiment.

"Major," he said, "I was in position on the right bank of the Meuse and I have received orders to fall back. I heard that you were on the other bank and I have come to place myself at your disposal. Do not pack me off again, Major. Make use of my hundred and fifty men." This help was a godsend.

"Grossman," I answered, "this is just like you. I am very thankful you have come. We succeeded at Visé and we have taken a flag here and a number of prisoners. I will give you an opportunity of doing something worth doing. The situation is as follows: The enemy is retreating in front of us, but my left is threatened and we are threatened from behind. I also know that a fairly important German force is in Rhèes cemetery, and may be able to turn round us. Go by Basprial towards the heights, clear the ground of what you find there, hold the troops which now occupy Rhèes, at all costs, and endeavour to make an impression on them. I fancy you will do a good stroke there, Grossman."

The Commander started off at once with his Company and, towards one in the afternoon, he crossed the bridge again, followed by four hundred prisoners, among whom were seven officers, Lieutenant Count von Moltke included, the grand-nephew of the famous Marshal.

"I congratulate you heartily, Grossman," I said, "and, by way of reward, you shall take the prisoners to Liége."

A few minutes later, I received notice that General Bertrand was coming with his brigade to the left bank, that I was to cover his passage by the Wandre bridge and form, afterwards, the rear-guard of his troops, which were retiring in the direction of Ans....

[CHAPTER III]

The Attack on the Offices of the 3rd Division

(Liége, August 6, 1914)

From Accounts by General Major Stassin, Commanders Vinçotte and Buisset, Captains Lhermite and Renard, Adjutant Burlet and Private Poncelet

The aspect of St.-Foi Street on August 5, 1914, will never be forgotten by those who were there on that date. Officers and soldiers, covered with dust, came hurrying along from the Quays and from St. Leonard Street and Defrecheux Street, towards the offices of the Military Headquarters of the fortified position. With feverish haste, they hurried along through the crowds of young men in the street, who, with their tri-coloured cockade in their buttonholes, were shouting and singing in their enthusiasm, for they had all come to offer their life for their country. Everyone was in high spirits, as the greatest confidence and certainty of victory reigned supreme. The various groups were chatting and joking with each other, and the arrival and departure of the military couriers were greeted with amusing sallies. "Bring me back a helmet!" called out one man. "I would rather have a lance to make a hat-pin with for my wife!" cried another. Bursts of laughter greeted every speech. Young men, rich and poor, were all there together, fraternising with each other, all actuated by a fine burst of patriotic enthusiasm. Here and there, forming a contrast to this careless gaiety, were the farmers and cattle-dealers, in their smocks, with their iron-tipped sticks. They all looked more or less anxious and were discussing gruffly the requisition prices.

"Make way there!" called out a voice authoritatively.

A gendarme suddenly appeared, carrying a pigeon crouching in a woman's hat. He was followed by a wretched-looking woman in tears, with dishevelled hair, and by a shifty-looking individual. Both of them had a shrinking attitude as they were hustled along. The man kept repeating in a mechanical way: "Let us go! Let us go!"

"Down with all spies!" yelled the crowd and fists threatened the two Boches, as they disappeared under the archway. Several carts, under the care of a sub-officer, followed. They were full of weapons and war equipment of various kinds. The news soon spread that fifteen thousand guns had just been discovered in a cellar in St. Marguerite Street and more than fifty thousand lances, saddles, revolvers, and machine-guns in a house in Jonckeu Street, which, from cellar to attic, had been converted into a veritable arsenal. A thrill of anger ran through the whole crowd.

Inside the house which was the Headquarters of the Staff, feverish activity reigned. Night and day, without ceasing and without any rest, the officers had been at work, for, we may as well confess it, we had had too much faith in the loyalty of our neighbours, and the ultimatum had taken us by surprise. Everything had to be thought of and everything organised within a few days. Motor-cars, horses, cattle, and fodder had to be requisitioned. Houses in the firing line would have to be destroyed, trenches and shelters must be constructed. There were, in fact, thousands of things to be done, in order to complete and improve the defence of the Forts.

The telephone bell kept ringing and couriers rushed off every minute along the various routes, carrying orders from the Governor to the various points threatened.

Towards midnight, St.-Foi Street was silent again. At the Military Headquarters, the officers continued their work and, at the door of the building, a bureau carriage and several motor-cars were stationed.

Suddenly, shouts and cries of "Hurrah!" were to be heard. Surrounded by a crowd, wild with delight, an open motor-car appeared.

Standing on the cushions, Engineer Hiard was to be seen waving a German flag. It was the flag of the 89th Regiment of the Mecklenburg Grenadiers, which a soldier, Fernand Lange, had just taken at the Wandre bridge, at Herstal. Windows opened, and faces, with eyes puffed up with sleep, appeared. Bare arms were to be seen waving handkerchiefs, and the enthusiasm was beyond all words.

Gradually the tumult ceased once more and there was silence again. Day broke and a dim light illumined the street. Suddenly a motor-car appeared through the morning mist, and two lancers, who were seated in it, cried out, "The English are here!" Behind them were five German officers, preceding soldiers in grey uniform marching in two ranks and shouldering guns.[3]

A crowd of men and women of the people accompanied them, shouting joyfully: "Long live the English!" Commander Marchand was standing in the doorway of the Headquarters building, smoking a cigarette. He looked at the procession in amazement, wondering whether the men were truce-bearers or deserters. He advanced a few steps to meet them in a hesitating way.

Inside the building, the officers were still at work, taking no notice of the noise in the street. By chance, Commander Delannoy went to the window. His office is on the second floor and looks on to St. Leonard Street. He saw about thirty Germans in this street. He rushed back to the landing shouting: "The Germans are here!" Commander Vinçotte, who was on the first floor, loaded his revolver and rushed down the stairs. Commander Buisset and Lieutenant Renard followed him.

In the meantime, the five German officers walked slowly up to Commander Marchand and, putting their hands behind their backs, armed themselves with a revolver in the right hand and a dagger in the left. When within two yards of the Commander, their chief officer, a tall, stout man, whom we learnt afterwards was Major Count Joachim von Alvensleben, spoke to the Belgian officer in English. No one knows what he said. Marchand suddenly shouted: "You shall never pass!" All the German officers, feigning no longer, fired immediately. Marchand and Vinçotte fired back. Three German officers fell. Alvensleben rushed to the door to enter the house, but Vinçotte forthwith fired four shots at him, and the Major fell forward head first. The last German officer fell at his side, brought down by Captain Lhermite with the butt end of his gun. Following the example of their chiefs, the enemy soldiers opened fire, holding the butt end of their guns on their hips. They aimed badly and the shots grazed the walls. Commander Sauber sprang out of the carriage standing at the door, and discharged his Browning on the assailants. A German slipped behind the motor-cars and aimed at Sauber from the footpath. He missed the Commander, but hit Marchand, who fell down, wounded at the back of the neck and in the chest.

At this moment, about twenty Germans turned the corner of the street and rushed to the rescue of their countrymen. Hidden behind a barrier, they fired into the windows and entrance hall. Colonel Stassin, Chief of the Staff, was working with General Leman in a back room of the ground floor. At the sound of the shooting, he rushed along the hall and, in spite of a shower of bullets, out into the street. A terrible sight awaited him there. Commander Marchand was lying in a pool of blood, and four Belgian officers were fighting courageously with about thirty Germans. The Colonel did not hesitate a moment. Before all things, the Governor must be saved. He returned to the office and took the General to the Royal foundry which adjoins the buildings. Helped by Captain de Krahe and Captain Lebbe, the two chiefs scaled the wall, between the houses, and, by taking St. Leonard Street, reached the Vivegnis station. From there, they went by carriage to the Loncin Fort, where the Governor remained.

In the meantime, Commander Vinçotte, in order to cover the General's retreat, called together the soldiers and the gendarmes of the Guard and led them to the attack, seconded by Captain Buisset, Captain Lhermite, and Lieutenant Renard. With a gun which he found in the street, Commander Hauteclerc joined in the attack. The Belgians were ten against thirty, but, in spite of this, they sustained the fight with advantage to themselves. On their knees on the ground, crouching down on the footpath, or sheltered behind doors, they avoided the enemy's balls, whilst their well-aimed firing brought down many victims. When about ten were killed, the others, most of whom were wounded, took flight. One alone, the last of them all, posted opposite the Headquarters, continued firing at the windows. Adjutant Burlet, from the balcony above, brought him down. Undecided which way to escape, the Germans stopped at the corner of St. Leonard Street. A few of them waved the white flag.

"Forward!" cried Vinçotte, at the head of his courageous little troop, rushing off in pursuit of them. In St. Leonard Street, two more Germans were killed. Unfortunately the Belgians only had their revolvers and, thanks to this, the remaining Boches escaped.

After placing men to guard each end of the street, the officers returned to Headquarters and carried the body of Commander Marchand into a room on the ground floor. The unfortunate officer gave no sign of life. He had a frightful wound at the back of his neck and a great clot of blood at his chest. A second victim, a gendarme, named Houba, was placed at his side. In an adjoining room the wounds of two soldiers were quickly dressed. The bodies of the enemy were then searched. In Major von Alvensleben's pocket, a 1/60,000 map of Liége was found, on which an itinerary was traced in pencil from Hermée to Coron-Meuse. Had the Germans really followed that itinerary and had they managed to come unseen across the waste land of the Vignes and so enter the town? It is possible, but it is quite certain that their departure was as mysterious as their arrival, as they were neither seen to enter nor leave the town at any point of the fortified region. It is much more probable that they were hidden inside the town when they prepared this expedition. The following rumoured version of the affair is much the more probable explanation. A few days before the declaration of war, it is said that some Danes took a flat at Thier, Liége. On the evening of August 5th, they paid their bill to their landlady, an honest, unsuspecting woman, telling her that the town did not seem safe and that they intended leaving the following night. Towards three in the morning, she heard a noise and, getting up, went to see them off. To her amazement, she saw that they were wearing German uniforms. Without attempting any explanation, the Boches made off. Were these men Alvensleben and his friends?

Whatever were the means employed, the attempt on the offices of the 3rd Division was a most daring exploit, and if it had not been for the heroic resistance of the Staff officers and of the soldiers on guard, the Germans would certainly have succeeded in capturing the Governor of the stronghold and in getting hold of the documents concerning the defence.

FOOTNOTES:

[3] Some of these soldiers belonged to the 7th Regiment of Chasseurs.

[CHAPTER IV]

The Sart-Tilman Combat

From an Account Given by Père de Groote, Army Chaplain to the 1st Regiment of Unmounted Chasseurs and completed by Major N—— of the 4th Regiment of Unmounted Chasseurs

On August 4, 1914, the inhabitants of Charleroi crowded to the streets, windows, and balconies to cheer the 1st Regiment of Chasseurs which was starting, preceded by the band, to take part in the defence of Belgium.

"Long live the King! Hurrah for Belgium! Hurrah for the soldiers!"

Every man shouted the words that came first to his lips, and the soldiers, with bright eyes and smiles, marched proudly along, under a shower of flowers and tricolour ribbons.

Pushing through the ranks, a woman held a little girl of three or four years of age up to one of the volunteers, and the father, with tears in his eyes, kissed his child for the last time, amidst the frantic cheering of the crowd.

Just at this moment, the people rushed forward on to the horse-road, surrounding the soldiers, and commenced filling their pockets with tobacco, chocolate, and a hundred other dainties. The officers, half-laughing and half angry, endeavoured to re-establish order. As for me, I had great difficulty to get along, for people I did not know at all clutched me, grasped my hands and, recommending their sons to my care, forced money upon me with the words, "Take it, take it, it is for the soldiers." I managed to get free of the mob and rushed home. To my great annoyance, my appointment as army chaplain had not yet arrived. What was I to do? The soldiers wanted me to be with them and it seemed to me that, at such a time, I could not desert them. I did not hesitate long, but rushed off to the station and took my seat in a compartment with eight officers.

After two hours' journey, the train stopped and we were at Huy. After organising the bridge-head and protecting the destruction of the Engis and Hermalle bridges, the regiment was sent by train to Liége in the afternoon of August 5th. We arrived at the Longdoz station and were greeted here, too, with cheers. The enthusiasm increased when the crowd discovered a priest in the ranks. We were stationed on the road which leads from Jupille to Bellaire, as reserves, behind the 11th Brigade, which was then fighting furiously in the vicinity of the Barchon Fort. The soldiers piled arms and lay down on the roadside. Presently a line regiment passed. From horseback, I addressed a few patriotic words to the brave fellows, who seemed to appreciate what I said. They knelt down and asked for my blessing. I prayed that God would give them the victory.

Towards evening, we returned to Liége, went through to Fragnée and halted in a meadow. It was then ten o'clock. I lay down on the grass by Commander Henseval. I had not closed my eyes for three nights and was dead tired. The Commander, who was preparing his stylograph, in order to write to his wife, noticed my exhaustion. "Go to sleep," he said; "in case anything happens, I will wake you." I did not need telling twice, but alas, ten minutes later, there was an energetic call: "To arms! To arms!"

I sprang to my feet and rushed forward to find out what had occurred. The German Staff, having failed in its plans to the east, was employing one of its favourite manœuvres and developing action by means of its left wing, in the direction of a more vulnerable sector, that of Embourg-Boncelles. From our position at Fragnée, we could already see the light of the bursting shells, here and there, in the direction of Boncelles.

We were sent with the 4th Chasseurs to Ougrée. I was at the head of the column, behind General Massart. It was raining in torrents and the water was streaming down our faces. This mattered little to us and we continued our march along the white road bordered by two rows of trees.

Suddenly, a motor-car arrived, travelling at full speed. Commander Marchand was in it. He belonged to Lieutenant-General Leman's Staff.

"Our men are outflanked at Sart-Tilman," he said to the General; "the Chasseurs must defend the hamlet at any cost."

"You mean a sacrifice?"

"Yes, General."

"Good, agreed! Forward!"

The commander of the regiment, Colonel Jacquet, went quickly from rank to rank of the soldiers, stimulating their enthusiasm and telling them how proud he was to be marching at their head. As he wished to add example to precept, he went straight to the vanguard and advanced cautiously along, for the ground was hilly and it was quite possible that enemy patrols might have penetrated there. Sart-Tilman is the key of a wooded table-land, the entrance to which was crowned by a series of redoubts and hastily prepared trenches, but the firing range was not sufficiently cleared. It was nearly midnight when we passed through the hamlet.

The Major of the 1st Battalion placed three companies between the redoubts, facing the St. Jean and Sclessin woods and kept one company back as a reserve. The noise from this side was deafening. Everything seemed to be rumbling together, guns, machine-guns, and cannons, and, in the midst of the darkness, the bursting of the shrapnels illuminated the sky with their blood-red lights. To the right and left, the Boncelles and Embourg Forts seemed to be wrapped round with a girdle of flames. From time to time, we could hear, in the still night, the doleful sound of the fifes sounding the rally and the march forward. It was a grand and thrilling sight. It was war in all its tragic beauty. The deployment of the Chasseurs was carried out just as though it had been on the drilling ground. They climbed the slopes in files. Here and there, lay the dead body of a Belgian soldier.

"Halt!" came the order and, when once they were established in an advantageous position and sheltered as much as possible, they fired by guess and for a good reason. It was impossible to see a single one of the enemy soldiers. They were all hidden in the trenches and their heads scarcely came up to the parapet.

Suddenly, some soldiers, dragging with them their machine-guns, rushed away, crying, "The Germans are there. Each man for himself!" It was impossible to stop them and there was a veritable helter-skelter. We discovered afterwards that these men were Germans, disguised as Belgian soldiers, in order to create a panic amongst us. There was a slight hesitation and then our officers rushed amongst the sharp-shooters and led them forward, to the positions they were to occupy. A violent musketry fire greeted them, coming chiefly from the St. Jean wood, a part of which had not been felled. Scattered about, our Chasseurs continued to advance, sheltering behind one tree after another, in spite of the ceaseless firing. The balls whizzed along and, with a dry crackle, cut down the branches or entered the trunks of the trees. I can still see a young Corporal, who had been hit in the head and chest with a ball and was red with blood, walking towards Major Le Doseray.

"I have done my duty, Major," he said, "haven't I? Are you satisfied with me?" The Major had only just time to grasp his hand, when the poor fellow sank down. I rushed to him, but he was dead.

The battle developed with great violence. The German scouts, who preceded their columns, were driven off; but our company to the right, under Captain Commander Rochette, had suffered terrible losses and he asked for reinforcements. The reserve of the 1st Battalion and two companies of the 2nd Battalion soon formed part of the chain, and the struggle continued until break of day with alternative calm and violence. The Germans found a way of creeping into our thickets, thus obliging our regiment reserve patrols to explore our positions on each side and even at our back.

The Chasseurs were congratulating themselves on having accomplished their mission and they believed that the victory was theirs, when, just at dawn, on our left wing, the Boches waved white flags and the bugle rang out, "1st Chasseurs, cease firing!" Our officers were amazed and, for an instant, our firing stopped. We understood immediately, though, that it was only another ruse and that the Germans had imitated our bugle call. The fight began once more, and very soon after, groups of the enemy who, during the darkness had crept into some of the Sart-Tilman houses that were still intact, took our trenches and our explorers from behind. There was a moment's consternation, as one of our men fell face downwards at the Colonel's feet, declaring that he had been shot in the back by his comrades. By way of restoring confidence, the Commander of the 2nd Battalion sent a platoon to reconnoitre in the direction of the Cense-Rouge farm. It came back without discovering anything, after losing some men who were also shot in the back. Another platoon inspected the field of oats adjoining the farm. Our Adjutant-Major went himself into the gardens. In the houses, there were soldiers dressed remarkably like our Chasseurs. The Colonel told them to come out and join in the shooting. They refused and we broke down the doors, but the point blank firing of these imitation Chasseurs obliged our men to fall back. Captain Fleuracker, Captain Rochette, Lieutenant Sohier, Lieutenant Pereaux, and Lieutenant Dufrane were killed. Our reserve had to be withdrawn and the houses had to be attacked one after another. We were not supplied with incendiary and asphyxiating means, as the Germans were.

The battle continued to rage and some German machine-guns, stationed four hundred yards north-east of Sart-Tilman and protected by barbed wire, fired volleys into the hamlet and its neighbourhood. Captain Vergeynst, followed by a few courageous men, rushed forward and succeeded in bringing down the Boche commander and his gunners, but, unfortunately, the losses in our ranks were considerable. The regimentary reserve, which for a time had been dispersed, now rallied round the officers, whilst the first line executed a furious counter-attack. This continued until towards five o'clock, when the 3rd Battalion, with the flag, the machine-guns, and the artillery of the 15th Brigade came from the St. Laurent wood and began to attack the trenches we had had to leave. These were soon retaken.

Just at this moment Captain Henseval, commanding the 3rd Company of the 3rd Battalion, noticed a white flag in the midst of a group of Germans who, with hands up, were crying, "Kamarades! Kamarades!" A sign was made for them to approach, but, as they did not move, Henseval, accompanied by about ten men, advanced towards them in order to take them. He had almost reached them, when the Germans flung themselves down on the ground, discovering a machine-gun which mowed down the little group of Belgians, including the Captain, who received several balls in his chest. Of all this brave group, only one man escaped.

To the left, in the direction of Boncelles, grey masses could be seen treading down the beet-root fields. They were the 73rd and 74th regiments of German Infantry, marching in close ranks, shouting "Hurrah!" and attacking the Fort. Our shells and machine-guns made great gaps in their columns. At the command of their officers, the Battalions closed up the gaps and continued their march forward. Three times their lines were broken and three times they re-formed them. Finally, decimated, they broke up near the moats. Only a hundred men remained on foot. Without their officers, and completely demoralised, they waved a white flag. Captain Lefert, in command of the Fort, and Lieutenant Montoisy, climbed on to the benches and, when the Germans saw them, they held up their hands. Just at that moment, two shots were fired from somewhere and the Captain fell, a ball in both thighs. The Germans gave themselves up all the same, and disappeared in Indian file inside the Fort. The assault had failed and the enemy fell back towards seven o'clock and attempted nothing more than a few counter-attacks at intervals.

The Chasseurs were masters of the place and their flag flew over Sart-Tilman.

I went out at once to the battle-field. What an abominable sight it was! Around the trenches, were the dead bodies of Belgians and Germans, piled up and forming parapets three yards high. I went down into one of the trenches; it was a pool of blood, with a heap of bodies entangled with each other. Alas, how many of our brave young Chasseurs were there, poor fellows whom anxious mothers were expecting back home! Stepping over the dead bodies, I dressed the wounds of our men and said a few words to encourage them. They were resigned and bore their suffering without any complaint, but what anguish I read in the eyes that were already becoming dim! How fervently they clasped their hands together in a last prayer!

When I spoke a few words in their own language to the German wounded, what a deafening noise began! They cried, moaned, pitied themselves and, imagining that I was one of their countrymen, gave me farewell messages for their relatives, their wives, and their children. They clung to me, kissed my hands, beseeched me not to leave them. I hurried away from this hell and made my way up and down the battle-field, in search of wounded men to relieve and dying ones to whom to administer the last sacraments. There in front of me, lay more than five thousand soldiers of the Brandenburg, Hanover, and Pomeranian Corps. The ground was covered with a grey cloak, relieved here and there by the dark patches of our Chasseurs' uniforms. From this field of suffering, could be heard groans, sobs, and the death-rattle. It was horrible, frightful! Lying on his back, with a fearful wound, a poor young volunteer of some seventeen years old, was calling out, piteously, "Mother, mother, I want to see you!" I knelt down beside him and the poor boy held out a silver coin of fifty centimes to me. "It is all I have," he said; "I want to send it to the church where I was baptised."

I was moving on, when a Commander suddenly forbade me to go forward. "As long as there are any wounded, I have a mission to fulfil," I protested. He finally yielded and gave me two soldiers for protection. This precaution was wise, as, a minute later, a German officer, who appeared to be dead, fired two shots from his revolver at me, but fortunately he failed to hit his mark. After this I was extremely cautious in approaching any officers of the enemy. However serious their wounds might be, they always clutched their swords in disdainful silence, in order to avoid the humiliation of being disarmed. "I wish to be buried with my sword and decorations," said a dying German Captain. I promised him that his wish should be respected and he died contented.

With the most admirable devotion, the nurses carried the wounded soldiers to the ambulances and, very soon, a long convoy was moving along the Angleur road. At every jerk, cries and groans could be heard.

Towards evening, I was alone on the battle-field. A gloomy twilight lit up this plain of the dead. Disagreeable odours mingled with the sweet scent of the woods. There was not a murmur, not a rustle or sound, everywhere peace and silence! On the torn-up, hollowed-out ground, were heaps and heaps of dark-looking, horrible terrifying things....

[CHAPTER V]

The Retreat of the 800

By Captain —— of the 14th Line Regiment

Among the episodes of the war, there is one which, thanks to the brilliant result obtained, deserves mention in the glorious pages of our history. It is the retreat carried out by two infantry battalions, the one of the 34th Line Regiment, and the other belonging to the fortress. The episode occurred eight days after the occupation of Liége by the German troops when the place appeared to be completely invested. The 1st Battalion of the 34th Line Regiment, after organising the defence works of Werihet, in the Barchon-Pontisse sector, was sent during the morning of August 4th, to the Embourg-Chaudfontaine interval, with the mission to defend the valley of the Vesdre, in case of any attacks on the Vesdre road or on the Ninane road. Retrenchments were quickly constructed, ditches dug, and quantities of sacks of earth piled up. In short, the interval was soon transformed into a regular fortress. The Commander, on hearing that the enemy was advancing on Liége and had sent out reconnaissances in the direction of Chaudfontaine, ordered a patrol to explore the Rochette wood to the north-east of the Fort. This patrol returned towards four in the afternoon, bringing Baron von Zutfen, Lieutenant of the 2nd Chasseurs of Ziethen, as prisoner. This feat was cheered, and it was with lively curiosity that our soldiers gathered round the first German prisoner.

The order to retreat given, on August 6th, to the troops fighting in the intervals round the Liége position did not affect this Battalion, so that all day long, on August 5th, 6th, and 7th, the men were employed in completing the defence of the valley. During the morning of August 8th, the news spread that German troops had entered Liége. Measures were immediately taken for repulsing any aggression from the town side. It was hoped that, even if the enemy had succeeded in penetrating, it might only have been by forcing the Fléron, Evegnée, and Barchon intervals. If this were the case, though, the situation was critical for the Belgian Corps, and the Commander was surprised that he had received no instructions. From another side, persistent rumours were afloat, announcing the arrival of the campaigning army through Waremme, reinforced by a French contingent. What were we to believe? Messengers sent to General Leman did not return and the days passed by in anxious waiting. Every instant we had news to the effect that the circle was getting more and more hard pressed. Officers and soldiers were anxiously wondering whether they would be able to hold out. On the 10th, 11th, and 12th, there had already been various skirmishes between detachments of the enemy who had made use of the Red Cross flag in order to approach, and patrols of a company in retrenchment on the Vesdre road, near the second milestone. A few enemy prisoners were taken.

On the 12th, at 4.30 P.M., a terrible bombarding of the Chaudfontaine Fort commenced, which never ceased until 9.30. The following morning at five o'clock, the cannonading recommenced most violently, the Fort was blown up, and the enemy surrounding it rushed from every side to the assault. The Embourg Fort met with the same fate. Finally on the morning of the 13th, towards nine o'clock, a courier arrived at Château Nagelmackers, where the Commander was staying, with an order from General Leman calling for the troops at Awans.

Just as the 2nd Company, which had been guarding the Chaudfontaine and Ninane roads, was setting out, it was surrounded by an enemy column and taken prisoner. The two remaining companies climbed the hill and reached the Henne Château and the Basse-Mehagne farm. On arriving there, the 1st Company, which formed the rear-guard and was being attacked on its flank by a detachment coming from Chênée, executed a helter-skelter firing on the adversary, whose shooting gradually became less and less intense. Finally, the enemy retreated, so that the little Belgian column was able to continue its march towards Embourg, where it rejoined the 3rd Company as well as a fortress battalion, which was also without instructions and was endeavouring to escape. These various troops, after crossing the Ourthe, some in little boats and others by a chance footbridge thrown across the river opposite Rousseau Island, climbed the Sart-Tilman, keeping by the Boncelles Fort, which was already being watched by the enemy, passed through the village in ruins, driving back the sentinel occupying the Vecquée woods and, just escaping a cavalry detachment, finally reached the Communes.

Our poor soldiers were thoroughly exhausted; they had been overpowered by the heat and tortured by hunger and thirst. Fortunately the population, although somewhat taken aback by their arrival, did all in its power to supply them with provisions.

The retreat then continued in the direction of the Val St. Lambert bridge, which, according to information received, was being guarded by about a score of men. Although obstructed by a train and various accessory defences, it could still be crossed in Indian file. All measures were taken for a bayonet attack and, in the middle of the night, our men advanced silently. To their amazement there was no one there. What had become of the troops which had charge of the defence of the bridge? Had they made off? This remained a mystery. The crossing of the bridge took some time, but the men were encouraged by this incident and the column set off once more, passing through Flémalle and Mons-Crotteux. After a most difficult march, beset by ambushes of all kinds, it finally arrived at Awans-Bierzet, on August 14th, at about 2.30. It took up its quarters here, whilst awaiting orders from General Leman. The enemy had been seen in the neighbourhood, so that the roads were guarded and urgent measures of security were taken. Various incidents took place before the end of the day and German detachments, which were approaching the Loncin Fort, had to be dispersed, causing us some losses.

From information received from various sources, we gathered that the enemy was endeavouring to cut off the retreat. In case this were so, there was nothing left but to fight to the last man. The soldiers and their officers were very much troubled, as they feared they had not rendered all the services to their country which it had a right to expect from its defenders. The bombarding of the Loncin Fort began at 3 P.M. and increased rapidly in intensity.

To those military men who had been present at the fall of Chaudfontaine, it seemed certain that Loncin would share the same fate. There appeared to be only one thing to do and that was to join, at all costs, the fighting army, certain elements of which were then in the Huy suburbs. After such intense nervous excitement as they had just undergone, after so much fighting and such long marches, the men were exhausted. Thanks to the rousing words of their chiefs and to their own earnest wish to avoid falling into the hands of the enemy, they decided to make a supreme effort in order to escape from the vice, the jaws of which were gradually closing round them. The posts were withdrawn silently, between 8 and 9 P.M., and the column, assembled behind the church, was prepared to take its fate into its hands. The commanders of the Hollogne and Flémalle Forts were informed that friendly troops would soon be passing within their zone of action, in an attempt to join the army in campaign.

A somewhat extraordinary itinerary was chosen, in order to avoid the most frequented roads. The column was to go from Awans-Bierzet to Hollogne, Mons-Crotteux, Horion-Hozémont, Haneffe, Chapon-Seraing, Villers-le-Bouillet, and Huy. In spite of fatigue, which made this night march excessively difficult, not a single man dragged behind, not a single one fell out. Each one of them was determined to carry out the plan decided on. In the early dawn, the column was within sight of Haneffe, which was evidently in the power of the enemy, as a platoon of Uhlans was to be seen patrolling the country round. Fortunately this was not an important detachment and, after a feeble resistance, it was driven out of the village.

The Belgian troop continued its march southwards. At seven o'clock, it surprised a flank guard of the same cavalry bivouacking in a field. At a distance of about five hundred yards, the elements at the head of the column opened fire and the Uhlans, without even having time to mount, took flight in all directions. They were impeded by their riding boots and spurs. Some of them stumbled and fell and, on getting up, started off faster than before. This excited our men to hurry along in pursuit of them. Two of the least agile of the horsemen were caught and taken prisoners. The horses took fright, broke loose, and galloped all over the country. The sight would have amused us if it had not been for the dead and wounded who were lying on the ground.

The valiant little troop now continued its way in the direction of Chapon-Seraing, where the soldiers had refreshments and then went on to Villers-le-Bouillet, which was to have been the end of their trying march, as, according to our latest information, the 28th Line Regiment was there. Once more we were to have a cruel disappointment, as, on arriving, we found that the troops which had been occupying the village had left the previous evening.

Fortunately Huy was only five miles distant. Another effort was made, and slowly, with bleeding feet, exhausted by fatigue and half dead with hunger and thirst, the soldiers, leaning on sticks which they had torn from the trees on the way, dragged themselves along the dusty horse-road. This last stage of the journey, although the shortest, was the most painful of any. When once we had reached Huy, there was still another disappointment. The 28th had left the town at midnight. From the heights which dominate the left bank of the Meuse, could be seen enemy patrols. From one minute to another, strong enemy forces might appear. The men were terribly exhausted. In spite of the overwhelming heat, they had marched for sixteen hours at a time, during two days. The question was would they have strength enough to start again and to continue their march as far as Couthuin, where the 28th had gone? At the station there was neither an engine nor a waggon. After some parleying, however, the station-master of Huy-Statte succeeded in getting a train from Namèche and, at 12.30, the column set out by rail for Namur.

In spite of the extreme fatigue of these brave men, it would be impossible to give an idea of the joy depicted on all their faces. Nothing could prove the determination of each one of them to escape the enemy better than the result obtained by this supreme effort. Not one of those who left Awans on the night of the 14th had fallen out of the column. Every man of the little phalanx answered to the roll-call at Namur. At the College de la Paix, where they were all quartered, the doctors soon dressed their bleeding feet.

Thanks to their force of character, to their exceptional powers of endurance, and to their extraordinary courage, these heroes escaped a humiliating captivity. A few days later, they were to be seen once more on the battle-fields of Antwerp and of the Yser, fighting desperately with the enemy, and ready again to sacrifice their lives for their country.

[CHAPTER VI]

Chaudfontaine

(August, 1914)

By Count Gaston de Ribaucourt, Sub-Lieutenant of the Heavy Howitzer Corps

As soon as the mobilisation was decreed, I went to the War Office to ask what services I could render as electrical engineer. I was advised to go, as quickly as possible, to the fortified position of Liége, as technical help was needed there for preparing the defence.

I arrived there the evening of August 3rd and, the following morning, was engaged for the Chaudfontaine Fort. The next thing was to fit myself out. I went at once to the Citadel, which looked like a huge hive. Every different service was in full swing and the most perfect order and activity reigned. Ten minutes later, I was equipped as an artilleryman and, with my bag in my hand and my field-glasses strapped round my back, was on the way to the train which took me, after changing, to the foot of the hill which dominates the Fort.

It was a warm, bright August day and I climbed the steep hill at a rapid pace, without giving a thought to the beautiful landscape around me. An hour later, I had reached that little nest of defence which we call a fort, and was glad to be able to offer all the energy, intelligence, and knowledge that I possessed for the service of my country, which was symbolised for me by the flag which floated at the summit of the hill.

Everything had already a warlike aspect. Here and there, trees had been felled in all their verdure. Barbed wire trellises had been stretched across the most accessible passes. Sentinels stationed here and there stopped me and, after questioning me and hearing why I was there, gave me a friendly salute. An orderly on guard took me to the officers in charge. I was at once received, installed in my new quarters and welcomed with enthusiasm and with that feverish energy which characterised the combatants of our heroic resistance.

I set to work at once, for I had much to learn. In the first place, there was the observation of the firing range, then the regulating of the cannons and all the electrical mechanism of the accessory services, the registering of the mine chambers, of the wire entanglements, etc. All this took up the rest of my morning and it was only later on that I could begin to think of the special functions which had been delegated to me.

Concealed among the hills which dominate the east of Liége, protected in a semi-circle by one of the windings of the River Vesdre, the Chaudfontaine Fort, of triangular form, was intended, together with the Fléron and Evegnée Forts, to cover the Herve plateau. From its position, it seemed as though it would be the object of the enemy's first efforts. Behind the Fort, emerging from the abrupt slope of the valley, could be seen, standing out against the sky, a corner of Liége, that corner which was so familiar to all Belgians, thanks to the Exhibition of the 75th anniversary. In the foreground, a little to the right, about a mile and a half away, was Chévremont Abbey, and on the slopes were the villages of Romsée and Magnée, their red roofs, and their active, suburban life giving a gay touch to the landscape.

A telephone message suddenly broke the calm, by announcing the approach of the enemy. The village of Foret, situated on the east, became the object of all our attention, and very soon we saw the sombre procession of grey uniforms appearing on the scene.

The Commander of the Fort assembled his men on the parapets and, after a few rousing words, gave his little garrison the order to open fire. When the first cannon was fired, each man returned quickly to his post. As my service was the observation of the firing range, I hurried to the plain and, under cover of the surrounding woods, reached the spot which had been indicated to me. Thanks to my portative telephone, I could then direct the first shooting. At the second firing, the shells and shrapnels burst over the village and it was at once evident that the quick firing from the Fort and the batteries were producing excellent results. With my field-glasses, I could distinctly see the enemy stop short, hesitate, and finally retreat, as it was hopeless to fight with an invisible adversary.

This prompt defence probably preserved our Fort from the terrible assaults sustained, during the night, by the neighbouring ones. The simultaneous attack of all the forts of the Vesdre-Meuse sector was one of the most impressive sights I witnessed during the whole campaign. It began in the evening by an intense bombarding by the German light artillery, answered heroically by the whole Liége defence. The incessant cannonading was dominated by the louder voice of the big fortress guns. The wan flashes from the cannon burst forth in thousands, while through the darkness the crude search-lights were projected, in an attempt to find the enemy's batteries. From time to time, during a moment's calm, could be heard the cries and moans of the German wounded, caught in the barbed wire and fired on by the machine-guns. All this gave a magnificent, and at the same time, frightful, aspect to the scene.

The following day, the morning was more calm, when suddenly we were informed that an infantry regiment, after creeping through the woods, had taken possession of the Forêt Château. Posted on the parapet, I directed open firing on the enemy there. The distance had been very exactly gauged, so that our prey was an easy one and our first shell fell right on the building.

Just as from an ant heap, suddenly destroyed by a kick, myriads of Boches rushed out, seeking refuge among the trees of the park and in a hollow road near by. Carefully directed, the projectiles followed them everywhere and reached them in their hiding-places, so that very soon the lawns were strewn with wounded or dead men. The enemy was once more obliged to disappear and nothing was now to be seen but convoys of ambulance cars, taking away those over whom Death had only hovered.

The resistance now became more and more difficult, as the enemy had managed to place batteries at points near enough to the Fort to reach it without being exposed. It was, therefore, necessary to discover fresh observation posts. I was designated for this service and, accompanied by a corporal, I set out. For nearly an hour we advanced, burrowing and hiding, in order to discover the enemy's positions. It was my first experience with shrapnels rifling the ground in every direction, in order to prevent observation. The Germans fired in volleys of four and, every time we heard the projectiles arriving, we had to lie down and then get up directly after the explosion, in order to locate the batteries. I discovered them, at last, behind a hedge in one of the Romsée gardens. As soon as I had informed the Fort, a few shots were fired in order to find the exact spot and then the German batteries had such a deluge of fire that, in less than a quarter of an hour, the position was considered impossible by them and at once evacuated. But the iron circle was gradually closing round us. After two days of heroic effort, the 3rd Division had been obliged to retreat, leaving the forts to their fate. Threatened on all sides, it was indispensable for us to establish a high observatory which should supply us with necessary information, as this was absolutely lacking since the departure of our covering infantry.

A few miles to the left of the Fort, the spire of the Chèvremont church stood out proudly against the sky. The old abbey, a vestige of a former epoch, was to help in our powerful modern defence work. By order of the Commander of the Fort, I set out in the night, to establish, as invisibly as possible, a telephonic line which should connect the observatory with the Fort. Fastening the wire through the brambles which abound in this district, and placing it along the road, I was fortunate enough to see my efforts crowned with success. Getting the wire into the abbey was more difficult. Fortunately I was able to make use of the poles which served for the electric light. I had to replace the wire of the lightning conductor, along a stake, by a telephonic wire and, following the other canalisations, bring it as far as the church. This took me a good part of the morning, but, by ten o'clock, after inventing a whole system of cords and ladders, I was finally established in the top of the spire. Thanks to a slate I had removed, I could see the country round to the east and north-east and, by means of the subterranean telephonic wires, I could communicate information concerning the slightest incident at Fléron and at Evegnée, and thus render valuable service to the defence.

For the next four or five days, I lived inside this spire, with a sub-officer. Twice only, a Belgian patrol paid us a visit. The rest of the time, only Germans prowled round. Many were the alerts which surprised us. A dozen men, belonging to the German infantry, spent half a day inspecting the abbey to see if there were really no Belgian soldier hidden there. Another day, just as we were looking through our window, we caught sight of a German patrol looking up. That was an alarming moment. We wondered what to do. If we moved away, it would make a change in the appearance of the window. By staying, we risked betraying ourselves and should probably be killed. This torture lasted half an hour. At a certain moment, I saw six men of the patrol take aim at the window. Fortunately, the sub-officer evidently thought better of it and did not give the command to fire. Remaining motionless had saved our lives. Two men who had inspected the tower had reported to their chief that there was nothing suspicious, and the seven Boches went away slowly, singing as they went.

August 11th was fatal to us. In the morning, towards six o'clock, although I had taken the precaution to hide in a closed chapel, I was noticed by a man in the neighbourhood. Two hours later, when I was at my post of observation, I saw that the abbey, and particularly the church, was the aim of the enemy. After three or four trial shots, a shell reached the roof of the church and then the volleys were repeated quickly. I was just endeavouring to locate an enemy battery which was bombarding Fléron from Beau-Tilly. Whilst I was giving indications about this, I was obliged to climb up into the steeple, which was the only place of escape from the firing. Batteries concealed behind the Chenée station were destroying the abbey. What terrible moments I spent up there! I was alone in the steeple, as my companion had gone to take his meal and could not get back to me. I stayed there as long as I could give any useful information. For two long hours the projectiles rained on the abbey. Presently, the steeple itself was hit. A shell burst in the woodwork over my head, took off my forage cap, and smashed the telephone in front of me. I was almost buried under the heaps of slate and wood and was half stunned by the violence of the blow. I thought my last hour had come. It was only at that moment that I thought of my tragic position and, on turning round, I saw that the roof of the choir was on fire. It was quite time to get away. As I descended the ladder, I discovered that I was slightly wounded in the knee. It was only a big surface wound though. I pulled myself together, rushed quickly down and, amidst all the débris that was falling on every side, made my way to the cellars, which the Fathers, the last few days, had been transforming into a shelter. An impressive scene awaited me there. In the middle of the subterranean vault, two Fathers and my companion were kneeling in prayer round the Holy Sacrament, which they had taken from the church at the beginning of the bombardment. Their joy was great on seeing me appear, for they thought I must have been dead some time.

For the next hour, we remained there, praying God to protect us. In the meantime, a great part of the abbey fell in. Nothing remained of the church but ruins. The valuable library was now only a heap of cinders, and was still burning.

Believing that they had attained their end, the German batteries now ceased firing. We were obliged to spend the rest of the day, though, amidst these ruins, which presented a sinister appearance, and wait until the darkness to go back to the Fort. In the night, feeling that at any rate we had done our duty, the sub-officer and I started on our way, stealing along for two miles, through country occupied by the enemy. It seemed a long, long way, beset as it was with danger. Several times we had to crouch down and hide until German patrols had passed by, only a few yards away from us. Finally, we caught sight of the outline of a Belgian sentinel and, a few minutes later, were back in the Fort, where the story of our adventures was enjoyed by all and we were congratulated by the officers.

August 12th was a wretched day for us, as there was no more observation possible. The big cannons had begun firing and our last moment was approaching. The hours seem interminable when the firing is only haphazard from the remaining cannons, and when one fires with the idea of using up the ammunition, quite as much as for the sake of endeavouring to injure the enemy.

Chaudfontaine was in a deplorable state. We could have no light at night, as a shell had fallen, without bursting, into the chimney of the steam engine. The Commander was determined to defend his Fort up to the very last and had posted men on the slopes to fight with the bayonet and endeavour to repulse the attack which was expected in the night.

With our hearts full of fury, we were all determined to give our lives for our King and our Country, and our fellow-feeling caused the soul of each man to rise to the same level. Whilst the others were keeping watch, with the help of a few men I endeavoured to get the accursed shell out of our machinery. It was nearly three in the morning when we succeeded in our task. Everything was quickly put in order, and it was with a hearty outburst of our national anthem that our brave men greeted the light which poured from the electric projectors twenty minutes later. This seemed like life renewed, and with it came renewed hope. Another day had commenced and the Fort was not taken. That morning, alas, all hope was crushed, for, as soon as it was daylight, huge projectiles came at regular intervals and we could not reply to them, as they came from too great a distance. Towards nine o'clock, when I was in the officers' shooting gallery, a shock, accompanied by a terrific report, shook the whole interior of the Fort. An immense "38" had just burst in the powder-room and the Fort was blown up. I was thrown against the opposite wall, and dragged myself to the door through the débris. With another officer, I crossed the hall, which had been transformed into a barracks, and there a fearful sight met my eyes. At the moment of the explosion, a hundred and forty men of the garrison had been lying there on straw or on mattresses, and now, in tragic horror, I saw the whole of this place on fire. Straw, mattresses, and soldiers, all were burning together! In the midst of this brasier, wretched men were struggling, with their clothes all in flames, like veritable living torches. We could scarcely drag one of them from the furnace. It was a horrible death, worthy of the martyrs of old. From the midst of the fire, dominating the groans, moans, and shrieks of suffering, some voices could be heard uttering the supreme cry of "Hurrah for the King!" "Hurrah for our Country!"

[CHAPTER VII]

Loncin Fort

From Accounts by the Army Doctors: Maloens, of the 3rd Battery of Heavy Howitzers; Courtin, of the 1st Chasseurs; Roskam, of the 14th Line Regiment; Defalle, Director of the Calais Municipal Crèche Ambulance; and Quartermaster Krantz, of the Gendarmerie

On the morning of August 6, 1914, Lieutenant-General Leman suddenly arrived at the Loncin Fort.

"An attempt has just been made to assassinate me," he said to Captain Naessens, Commander of the Fort, "I have come to take refuge behind your cannons."

The Captain immediately asked him for orders.

"I have no orders to give you here," replied the General. "You give your own orders in the Fort. My business is to attend to the defence of the fortified position."

The Commander of the Fort immediately called his men together and addressed them in French and in Flemish:

"General Leman has done us the great honour of taking refuge with us, my boys," he said. "Shall we give up the General?"

There were cries of "No! No!" on all sides.

"Well, then, if we have decided not to give up the General, we shall perish here. For, either the Fort will be blown up and I shall be blown up with you, or the Germans will come up here to attack us and, when they have passed the accessory defences, walking over the dead bodies of their own men, we shall form a last square. I shall keep seven bullets in my Browning, six for my enemies and the last for myself and we will all go together to Paradise."

Commander Naessens, a short, thick-set man, with a very determined face, and steel-blue, piercing eyes, was adored by his men, and this speech was greeted with indescribable enthusiasm.

"You must all swear that you will never yield," he cried, in the midst of the tumult. Thereupon, one by one, the soldiers filed up to their Commander and took this solemn oath.

From that moment, Naessens had his men thoroughly in hand. They would stand by him to the very death and his greatest pride was to be able to reply to the General's question: "Are you sure of your men?" with the words: "As sure as I am of myself, General!"

It was quite true, too. They were absolutely ready for anything. If volunteers were wanted for a dangerous expedition, double the number needed volunteered to go and they all beseeched the Commander to let them be the ones chosen. Those who were not accepted went away greatly disappointed.

Three or four of those brave fellows had formed themselves into a band which was known as "the Bonnot Band." Armed with guns or carbines, these explorers set off, each day, in a motor-car and acted either as a liaison between Loncin and the Forts which were still holding out, or as a patrol for getting information for the Commander, with reference to the presence of the enemy. Their daring was amazing. On one occasion the Commander's horse, whilst grazing in a neighbouring enclosure, had been killed. This "Band" promised to provide him with another mount. A few hours later, they returned with the horses of two German officers, laden with helmets and lances.

After the combats round Liége, soldiers of the 1st and 4th Unmounted Chasseurs and of the 9th and 14th Line Regiments, men who had lost their units, came to take refuge in the Loncin Fort, but, the following day, the Commander sent an officer with them to Waremme, only keeping for himself his own garrison of about five hundred men. This number was really sufficient and, during the terrible days from August 6th to 15th, the calmness and indifference to danger of these men were admirable.

During a violent bombardment, General Leman, on coming into the central building with Commander Naessens, saw a little scene which moved him to tears. The men, scattered about in little groups, were playing cards or talking together quite tranquilly, whilst, in one corner, indifferent to the noise, a soldier was playing some Liége cramignons on a flute, and his comrades, standing round him, were singing the refrains in chorus.

The following notes are taken from the diary of Quartermaster Krantz of the Gendarmerie, who had been appointed bodyguard to General Leman. After the explosion of the Loncin Fort, Krantz, with eight serious wounds, was taken to the St. Servais College of Liége.

August 7th. The fortress Infantry, sent out to reconnoitre, called our attention to a patrol of Uhlans on their way from Ans to Loncin. It was at once dispersed by one of our sub-officers, at the head of his section. We learnt from some courageous men that the German Field Artillery had taken position near the Ans aviation base.

August 8th. During the morning, German patrols, which had reached Awans, were driven back by our shrapnels and our Infantry. At three o'clock, the Fort opened fire with its twelve-centimetre guns over the Ans aviation base, where our reconnaissances had signalled enemy batteries and a movement of troops.

August 9th. I have been to Liége, where I heard that the Germans were bringing heavy artillery in order to attack the Forts. I told the General, and he ordered me to watch the movements and the passage of this artillery. He also gave me the mission of examining whether the Nasproué tunnel near Dolhain were practicable. I discovered that the line, which we had destroyed, had been repaired by the Germans, as they had no other way for their "420" cannons. During the afternoon, the Fort fired on various enemy batteries. We observed that a Taube had come down on the Ans aviation base and we fired on it violently with shrapnels. We also took a patrol of Uhlans prisoners on the Tongres road.

In the night, we bombarded a mass of troops quartered in the direction of Awans.

August 10th. The enemy bombarded with about thirty shells of light calibre, which caused no further damage than to chip one of our chimneys. The Fort replied on the enemy's batteries near Ans. I was sent to discover the movements of the troops and returned with important information. Among other things I had been informed of the installation of a post of observation by the Germans, in the steeple of the church on the Ans plateau. We fired on this steeple and brought down the tower, thus rendering it impossible for observation purposes.

August 11th. Calm. Reconnaissances in all directions by motor-car.

August 12th. Morning, terrific and rapid bombarding by the Germans. We replied each time with great energy and with very exact aim. Unfortunately, the cupola of one of our twelve-centimetres was soon injured, but, during a lull, we managed to repair it.

The entrance to the Fort was also hit. We captured four more Uhlans. During the night, reciprocal bombarding.

August 13th. We noted that the heavy German Artillery had commenced action. A violent firing from guns of 150 millimetres injured two of our cupolas.

August 14th. At three in the morning, we were bombarded by Howitzers of 280 and 305mm. The Fort shook to its foundations, an iron whirlwind broke loose in perfect avalanches over the exterior surface, and the gusts continued, every other two minutes, for some hours. After each shock, fragments of cracked and powdered cement fell on our heads. A grey dust, mingled with thousands of glass splinters from the window-panes, crackled under our feet, parching and irritating our throats and nostrils. The Fort was gradually crumbling. A 305 shell entered the Infirmary, killing and wounding several soldiers. At eleven o'clock, the clothing stores met with the same fate and, one after another, various buildings were destroyed, also the electric material, the ventilators, and the draw-bridge at the entrance of the Fort.

At about three or four in the afternoon, a truce-bearer asked to be allowed to speak to the Commander and demanded the surrender of the Fort.

"We prefer dying to surrendering," answered Captain Naessens. It was a proud answer and it expressed the general feeling. Towards evening, the firing slackened and everyone could rest. During the night, a Staff officer slipped out, taking away with him the various valuable papers belonging to the position.

August 15th. What a terrible day! From five in the morning, the bombarding has been continual, coming in gusts. Four crashes, one after another, and then a whizzing, a fall, and explosions in the cement. The shells penetrated to a depth of half a yard, digging out holes of four yards square. Towards eight o'clock the soldiers' rooms were wrecked, their beds overturned, and windows, fastened with iron bars eighteen centimetres thick, were broken; the Infirmary, the operating room, the kitchen, refectory, and the General's room were swept away. Everything was destroyed, not a single place remained which could serve as a shelter. The Fort is now in ruins from top to bottom, and we are in complete darkness and scarcely able to breathe, on account of the poisonous and noxious gases, as not a single ventilator works. Only two cupolas remain with which we can reply to the enemy's terrible avalanche. We are not continuing, though, as we do not know where the enemy's batteries are and they are certainly beyond our reach. During a lull, this morning, another truce-bearer paid us a visit. He was not escorted and carried a white flag. The sentinel ordered him to halt and to return, so that he should not be able to communicate any information with regard to the result of the adverse firing. On the Boche's refusal to obey, the sentinel ordered him a second time to halt and, as the second time he refused to obey, he was shot down. He had time to signal with his white flag before falling to the ground dead. We believe, and it is also the opinion of our officers, that this supposed truce-bearer came treacherously to take his bearings for the firing of the four hundred and twenty guns, and that he sacrificed his life for the sake of giving the exact spot to the Artillery. Immediately after his death, we had to endure a very exact and continued bombardment. It was on this day, August 15th, that the Germans employed their famous "420" Howitzers.

From time to time, we saw the General and the officers walking about in the open on the fortification glacis, observing the enemy, with the most admirable sang-froid and an utter disregard for danger. The most miraculous and incomprehensible thing was that not one of them was injured by the explosions on every side of them.

At 5.20 in the afternoon, General Leman, Captain Naessens, Lieutenant Modard, their two Sub-Lieutenants, several other sub-officers and I were in the shooting gallery, and, although the Fort was practically destroyed, our brave, valorous chiefs continued giving orders. The others were sitting down in the central passage awaiting events. Suddenly we heard the protracted whizzing sound of a big projectile. "Here's another!" said one of the men in the passage. A huge burst of flame and then a formidable shock which flung us all against the wall and then—nothing but silence!

Quartermaster Krantz's diary stopped here. He had fainted and did not come to himself until he was in the hospital.

Dr. Courtin, who had the good luck to come out of the explosion uninjured, soon regained his presence of mind.

"I found myself lying on the ground," he said, "after a faint. It was very difficult to breathe, but fortunately a little air from a broken window reached me. I managed to get up and found that Dr. Maloens was lying at my side. His face was bleeding and I gave him a few drops of brandy. Nearly all the men had instinctively protected their eyes. All of them remembered their oath and refused to surrender. A remarkable example of heroism was given us by a young soldier who was at the end of a passage. He was black with powder, his clothes were in rags and he had two holes covered with blood in place of pupils to his eyes. He continued shooting, nevertheless, until he had used his last cartridge. On approaching him, we discovered that one of his feet was wedged between two blocks of stone and it had to be amputated so that he could be released.

"In the meantime, a few men who had escaped injuries managed to get out through the window, by taking down the bars. As I knew the passage, I moved slowly forwards in the darkness and found all the windows blocked. Suddenly, I saw a ray of light filtering through some pieces of cement which had fallen. By widening the aperture, I managed to get out. All round the Fort, our poor men were hurrying along in flames, half wild with pain. Others, on their knees, were reciting prayers. It was a frightful sight!"

In the evening, a German Colonel went to the Liége Military Hospital to say that a terrible explosion had destroyed the Loncin Fort. Two or three doctors, one of whom was Dr. Defalle, started immediately to this Fort. "We met some of the wounded," he told me, "coming along the Thier d'Ans road and, as we went along, we kept meeting motor-cars and pedestrians. In the villages, nearly all the inhabitants were at their doors, anxiously looking out. At Ans plateau, where the church steeple had been razed to the ground, we met a cart in which General Leman was lying. The cart was drawn by two horses and the General was accompanied by Staff Deputy Commander Collart and by a German officer. The General, who had just been taken from the ruins through a hole in the escarpment, was still half suffocated, and his face was blue. He had no wound visible though, and he was perfectly conscious.[4] On reaching the Fort, I found it was surrounded by numerous enemy troops of different arms and particularly by the Engineers. Some of the soldiers were waving a large Red Cross flag, in order to stop the firing from the Hollogne Fort. The explosion had chiefly affected the south-east part and the moats there were filled with the débris. The central masonry was destroyed and encumbered with blocks of cement. The cupola was knocked down. There was very little smoke, but, from time to time, detonations, caused by the cartridge stores exploding from the heat.

"From these ruins, could be heard the most unearthly groans and cries. The poor, suffering men, who were burning there, were begging us to help them. Blocks of stone or cement had to be raised and sometimes we were obliged to saw off a limb, in order to release these brave men. They were partly carbonised, quite black, and almost naked, when we succeeded in transporting them to a meadow near. From there they were taken to the town. In the counterscarp, separated by the moat, were some flanking coffers. The occupants of these had not been able to get back to the central construction, as the subterranean passage was obstructed. After some hours of labour, we were able to push in the ventilation gratings and to get the half suffocated men out.

"The Loncin inhabitants, overwhelmed with anguish, watched our terrible work. The recruiting had been local and they all dreaded lest they should recognise a member of their own family in these poor tumefied, charred bodies, with burnt hair, which were dragged from under the débris. They helped the doctors in bandaging and in administering the morphia for attenuating the traumatic shock. They gave the patients soothing drinks and installed them in their houses. Nearly every house had its wounded men, who were sent as soon as possible to Liége, either to the Military Hospital, the ambulances of the Daughters of the Cross and of the Jesuits, or to the one in the Rue des Rivageois.

"The Germans seemed surprised at the immensity of the catastrophe. Their officers, particularly those belonging to the Engineers, endeavoured to ease the suffering of the victims. When a few shots were fired, though, from the Waroux wood, they changed their attitude, blamed the Belgians, and talked of reprisals. We doctors reminded them that our lives were as much in danger as theirs, and that that fact did not prevent us from doing our duty. The Boches were somewhat confused and were quiet after this. Towards ten o'clock at night all the wounded were removed."

"I was at the St. Laurent Hospital," said Dr. Roskam, "when the wounded were brought in, towards nine in the evening. The sight of these poor men, with frizzled hair, black hands and faces, and scorched clothes, was frightful. The Germans took them for Senegalese. In the operating-room, scenes took place which filled us with horror. On taking off their clothes, shreds of flesh were torn off, legs and arms separated from the body, and horrible wounds and burns of all sorts appeared. There was a frightful odour of carbonised flesh. What made this scene more poignant still, was the courage, the stoicism of all these men who did not complain.

"They had scarcely come to themselves again after their dizziness, from which they were roused by the suffering caused by the washing of their wounds with green soap, when they asked after their Commander and their Lieutenant. Many of them had tears in their eyes when they heard that their chiefs were saved and they asked to be carried into the ward where Naessens and Modard were lying, seriously wounded. The two officers could scarcely recognise their men, thanks to powder, bandages, scars, and swollen features. They encouraged and congratulated them nevertheless, and in all justice. The whole of the time these men were in hospital, they were admirable. Horribly burnt, some of them blind, some with the sight of one eye gone, in many cases the drum of the ear perforated and the patient suffering from otitis, they endured everything with resignation, never complaining, grumbling, or protesting in any way. They were veritable heroes. When the first to recover started for Germany, Naessens and Modard, who had never intended to leave their soldiers and who were obliged to stay longer in Liége, in order to finish their cure, were carried to the courtyard by the men-nurses, in order to say a last farewell to the brave men who adored them!"

FOOTNOTES:

[4] This was confirmed by a letter from Captain Commander Hauteclerc to Mlle. Leman, the General's daughter.

[CHAPTER VIII]

Haelen

(August 12, 1914)

By Colonel Baltia, Chief of Staff of the 1st Cavalry Division

After defending Liége, the 3rd Division rejoined the Belgian Army, which had taken up its position on the Gette. The 1st, 3rd, and 5th Divisions were placed in the first line; the 2nd and 6th in the second line, whilst the 4th defended Namur. These forces were covered by the Cavalry Division which was first placed at Waremme. It fell back on St. Trond and then on the left of the army, thus lengthening the line from Tirlemont to near Diest.

On the 12th of August, the enemy Cavalry endeavoured to force the passage of the Gette at Haelen. Against six regiments of the 2nd and 4th Divisions of German Cavalry, supported by the 7th and 9th Battalions of Chasseurs and by three batteries, that is 4000 horsemen, 2000 foot-soldiers, and 18 cannons, the Belgian Cavalry opposed victoriously 2400 horsemen, 410 Cyclists and 12 cannons.

(See Army Commandment Report.)

For several days, detachments of the enemy Cavalry had made daring attempts at all the points of our line of defence along the Gette, but had found it well guarded everywhere.

On August 12th, our intrepid reconnaissances, consisting of officers of the Guides and Lancers, informed us that the enemy had been reinforced everywhere, and we had the distinct impression that an effort to pierce our line would be made at Haelen. We were on our guard and if the Division of German Cavalry hoped to pass there, it would meet the principal mass of the Cavalry Division of the Belgian Army. The enemy imagined that we were scattered all along the river, as we had been the preceding days, from Diest to Drieslinter, but it did not know that, by a skilful manoeuvre, Lieutenant General de Witte, only leaving the minimum of our forces at the secondary points of the passage of the river, had constituted an important reserve, which was in readiness to receive the enemy.

Whilst this mass was forming, General de Witte gave into the hands of the Colonel of the 5th Lancers the standard which this newly-formed regiment had just received. On that very day, this valiant troop won the honour of having "Haelen" inscribed on the immaculate silk of that standard.

The Battle Ground

The sun, which on rising had appeared sulky, now burst forth in all its splendour, lighting up the farms and the white farm-houses scattered along the road which unites Loxbergen and Haelen and winds between fertile fields, which were still partially covered with their rich harvests of corn and oats. The Division had made its headquarters on the border of Loxbergen, from which spot there is an extensive view. To the left is a narrow valley encircled with poplars and willows. Here and there are to be seen the red roofs of houses. On the brow of the hill dominating the valley, a Belgian battery was installed. The bells of the Church steeples of Diest rang out clearly and solemnly. In the distance could be seen the outline of the little, low-built church of Haelen. This little straggling town, almost unknown hitherto, was destined to be the witness of the violent, brutal effort of the German Cavalry to dislodge the Belgian Cavalry and open a way for itself into the heart of the country, after reaching the flank of the Belgian Army covered by the Cavalry Division. The Germans counted on having their revenge this time for all the successes that the Belgian Division had won during the first eight days of the campaign. They expected to avenge themselves on the Belgians, who had swept away their reconnaissances, their patrols, their posts of liaison and their centres of information and entirely disorganised their clever but fragile lookout system.

The First Firing

Presently, the lights of an incendiary fire were to be seen. It was the signal given by the German reconnaissances to let their army know that we had baffled their plans.

Our brave Cyclist-Carabineers were already at work, valiantly defending the position they occupied. With the help of the Cyclist Pioneer Pontonniers, they had made excavations, deepened the ditches, arranged hedges and fences, barricaded the roads and paths, installed their machine-guns in favourable positions, and were now determined to inflict a severe punishment on the invaders.

As soon as the first squadrons of Dragoons and Hussars appeared, the firing broke loose. The enemy hesitated a moment and then, urged on by their chiefs, took fresh courage and fired on our little Cyclists with their rifles, machine-guns, and cannons. The cowardly cads who led, or rather pushed them on, had protected themselves by placing unoffensive inhabitants of the villages whom they had hunted up, in front of them.

Our riflemen, well hidden, took aim calmly, and at every shot, a pointed helmet, a colbak or a schapska rolled on the ground and a man, dressed in grey uniform, fell among the harvest. Our "diables noirs" fell back, step by step, defending every furrow of ground and every bush.

German Cavalry Charges

Suddenly, the avalanche of German squadrons appeared and, in a wild gallop, rushed on the foot-soldiers, who sustained the shock without flinching, replying with their guns and bayonets.

The squadrons, excited by their gallop, continued their way until they came to the Belgian Lancers, who had alighted behind the Cyclists and who now received the charge with a running fire at short distance.

The gallop of these yelling, clanging masses shook the very ground, and the long, piercing lances looked as though they must overturn everything in their way, but at the first discharge of our Lancers' carbines, aided effectually by the four machine-guns manipulated calmly by Lieutenant Scouvemont and Lieutenant Ouverleaux, and by the firing of three squadrons of the 1st Guides, stationed to the right of the battle-field, the mass whirled round and was scattered. The first squadrons were followed by others. The second charge was received in the same way as the first one, and the third one like the second. Seven charges one after the other were broken up.

The moment was a tragic one. A quantity of horses was tearing wildly about, mad with terror and pain, and red with blood. Some of them came rushing against the horses of our Lancers. The panic spread among these, and, in a moment, an immense troop of horses was tearing about the plains amidst the firing of guns and the dry bursting of the shrapnels. Our soldiers, unmoved, reloaded their guns and prepared to repulse any further attacks, scarcely stopping to give a pitying glance at the dead bodies of friends and enemies around them, or at the wounded, who were groaning in pain.

Fresh Attacks of the Enemy

Those in command of the German Cavalry, recognising the inefficacy of their charges, sent no more horses, but their horsemen on foot, with carbines, supported by their machine-guns.

These men advanced over the plain, creeping in amongst the corn, crouching down in every shelter offered by the ground, and hiding behind the sheaves to escape the terrible fire of our courageous and skilful men.

Six regiments of Dragoons, Hussars, and Cuirassiers were already engaged and were advancing with great difficulty, when the help of two Battalions of Chasseurs was sent to them.

Our Artillery then entered into action. The first Horse battery, manipulated by an energetic officer quite sure of himself, sent his shells and shrapnels with straight aim on to the Cavalry and foot-soldiers covering the plain and, at the same time, covered with his destructive shells the Haelen bridge and the village, in which the fresh Cavalry regiments were massed together which had come to reinforce and support their comrades. Under the pressure of superior numbers, our Cavalry had hard work to hold out, but it did not budge an inch whilst giving our Infantry time to arrive.

Arrival of our First Reinforcements

It was three o'clock in the afternoon when our first help appeared: three Battalions of the 4th Regiment and two of the 24th, accompanied by a group of Artillery. These troops had started from Hauthem-St. Marguerite at 10.30. Part of the Infantry was sent to Velpen, to reach Haelen from there, and the other part was sent, as a reinforcement to the defenders of the Yserbeck Farm.

The Artillery supported these two attacks, but unfortunately, of the two batteries which took position at the Loxbergen Mill, only one could open fire without being immediately counter-attacked by the German Artillery, which was in position to the north of Velpen.

Whilst the Infantry was on its way to Velpen and Yserbeck Farm, the 1st Cavalry Brigade took to horse and went in the direction of the left wing of the battle-field.

The 2nd Brigade, which had been in action for seven long hours, now went in search of its horses.

At 7 o'clock, Yserbeck Farm, or rather the smoking ruins of this farm, were retaken by the Leconte Battalion, and Velpen was reconquered by the Rademaekers Battalion.

All around us were horses with broken limbs, blood streaming from their nostrils and wounded sides. Some of them were dying in the ditches by the roadside, or in the fields. Others were galloping wildly about, their saddles swinging between their legs.