a fine capture

by staff deputy captain courboin

september 9, 1914. aerschot, devastated and pillaged by the germans, was retaken by belgian troops composed of the cavalry division and the 7th brigade. surprised by the rapid action of our men, the enemy occupants made off, like a band of sparrows, in the direction of louvain. to the south of the town, though, some detachments, probably unaware of the direction of the retreat, were still holding out. our troops had gathered together on the heights towards nieuw-rhode and were awaiting orders. i had left my unit and was walking along at the border of the st. hertoger heyde bosch, when a soldier of the 27th line regiment told me that, according to a patrol, a horseman of the 2nd guides was lying wounded on the road running through the forest.

i asked for a gun and some cartridges and proposed to an army chaplain that he should accompany me. twenty soldiers at once volunteered their services and i had the greatest difficulty in limiting my escort to a corporal and six men.

ten minutes later, the horseman, who was unfortunately dead, was brought into our lines. my men had to encounter a violent firing, which came from the border of the wood to the south, proving[pg 128] that there was at least one enemy company there. the horrors they had seen at aerschot had roused the anger of our men, and they beseeched me to return to the forest with a force and avenge our unfortunate compatriots. i could not possibly have yielded to their entreaties, if an unforeseen circumstance had not more or less justified our escapade. an auto-machine-gun of the 1st division of cavalry, which was to reconnoitre in the direction of nieuw-rhode asked for an escort of scouts. i offered the help of our little troop and, a few minutes later, we were once more exploring the st. hertoger heyde. the woods appeared to be deserted, but, on arriving near the southern border, an intense firing, from the nieuw-rhode summit, greeted us. our machine-guns replied with interest, whilst my men searched the houses skirting the road, one after another, and, hiding behind the hedges, were ready to take aim at any german heads which, in a moment of imprudence, should be outlined against the deep blue of the horizon.

we bounded on until we were within a hundred yards from the summit. the enemy firing had ceased and we now saw about fifteen wounded men sheltering in a ditch and imploring our aid. we wondered whether this could be a trap for us? it was too late, though, for prudence. we had risked coming two miles into the enemy's lines and my men were there, quivering with impatience. it was no use hesitating. four houses stood in the corners of the cross-roads here, and these were probably sheltering the wounded and those who were trying to escape. there was no window looking out on to the place where we stood; the gardens appeared to be empty;[pg 129] one more rush and we should be able to see what was going on beyond the summit. when once we were at the top, i had no time to deliberate. a horseman, who, i must own, appeared to have lost control of his mount, galloped towards me at full speed. i shouldered my gun and ... the boche bit the dust. the terrified horse leaped about in the fields; my men took aim and the machine-gun seemed to start firing on its own accord. that moment of over-excitement saved us.

the enemy thought we were there in strong force. a gun, covered with a white handkerchief, appeared at a skylight window. they were surrendering. i placed myself against the wall of the house, so that i might escape any treacherous firing from the window in the roof.

"throw the guns out!" i shouted. a gun fell on the ground at our feet, then another and another. my men were wild with delight.

"twenty ... fifty ... a hundred," they counted. when the hundred and sixth gun fell to the ground, there was a lull and a german sub-officer then, came out to make terms with us. in very good french, he asked that the lives of the lieutenant, five sub-officers, and one hundred and six men, concealed in the house, might be spared.

two minutes later, a little troop of men arrayed in iron-grey and blue, were standing in line on the road. a very prussian little lieutenant handed me his pistol, which joined the guns piled up in the ditch. my men did not seem to be at all aware of the strangeness, which was really somewhat alarming, of our situation. if only our prisoners had had a little energy, the r?les might have been reversed. i would not allow myself an instant even to think of this and i gave the order to my boche colleague to take the command of his men.

[pg 130]

with incontestable authority, tapping his high boots with a little stick, the lieutenant commanded in a very arrogant tone: "attention!" i wondered again whether, in reply to one of his injunctions, given in a guttural tone in the german language, the whole band would not suddenly fall upon us and, instinctively, i tightened my hold on the butt end of my mauser....

no, it was very evident that these soldiers had a special mentality. the little dandy, tightly buttoned up in his grey coat, marching at the head of his men, seemed to me absolutely repugnant. i knew that our soldiers, commanded by one of our brave comrades, would not have remained long in the situation of this band of cowards. there they were, out-numbering us ridiculously, escorted by seven belgian soldiers, marching to our headquarters at aerschot. prisoners! they were prisoners and ... happy!

i was just about to fall in and close the march of this column, after promising to send help to the wounded, who were groaning in the ditch and calling out all the time: "a doctor. a doctor!" when a big, rough hand seized mine and shook it unceremoniously. it was corporal dethier, of the 27th, a brave miner of liége.

"captain," he whispered, "we all thank you. as for me, i am very glad, for i feel that i have been a good soldier to-day."[5]

footnotes:

[5] the names of these six brave men are: massin, cyclist company; de sutter, 3/2; menu, 3/2; le kouttre, 3/2 of the 7th line regiment; barthels and sty, cyclist carabineers of the 1st cavalry division, who were both proposed later on for honorary distinction; corporal j.j. dethier, who was wounded at the yser and had his leg amputated. he has been made a knight of the order of leopold.