(september 9-12, 1914)
the second sortie from antwerp
episode of the battle before over-de-vaert (haecht). by lieutenant l. chardome of the 14th line regiment
i am writing the account of this combat in bed, at the elisabeth ambulance, as i am still suffering from my wounds of thirteen months ago. i give this account without any pretension and without any false modesty; my only care being to tell the exact truth.
it was during the second sortie of the antwerp garrison. my company, the 2nd division of hotchkiss machine-guns of the 3rd army division, had passed the night of september 11 and 12, 1914, along the embankment of the malines-louvain railway line, five hundred yards from the haecht-wespeleare station. at 4 in the morning, we received orders to get into line and go to the support of the 14th line regiment; my men mounted the slope in glee, and had soon cleared the summit. very soon the two guns of my section, the 52nd and 53rd, had taken their place with the sharp-shooters of commander magnette's company, supporting the last section of infantry to the extreme left.
the sharp-shooters during the night had occupied[pg 132] a trench intended for those who kneel and they were now busy making it deeper. to my right, i could see their outlines dimly through the morning mist. in the rear the 15 howitzers, placed beyond the railway, had sounded the reveille and immediately, three 75 batteries of the 12th brigade took up the firing on the left. towards 8 o'clock, the mist had entirely disappeared and the battle-field could be seen. our losses were already important. first sergeant-major carlens, chief of the machine-gun section, had been killed and butjèns, who served the 52nd, had been shot through his thigh. i had reserved the 52nd for myself and i was pointing it. from time to time, i called out to the men who were firing haphazard: "what are you aiming at? do not shoot till you see the enemy." in order to give them confidence, however, i sent off about thirty cartridges, now and then, towards spots that i believed were occupied, as i know how it comforts the soldier to feel that he is being supported by the machine-gun.
in front of us, the firing continued, and the german maxims never ceased for an instant their ta-ra-ta-ra-ta. the question was, where did this firing come from? it was not until ten o'clock that i finally caught sight of the enemy trenches. for six hours, until then, i had been searching the firing range with excellent field-glasses, and had not been able to discover anything. suddenly, a german head emerged and revealed to me the whole position.
"caught!" i said to myself and i felt the most ferocious joy. i could now direct my firing, and hubert massart, my orderly, served me as observer. i succeeded, with three strips of thirty cartridges, in hitting straight at the parapet and the talus. i at[pg 133] once communicated my discovery to the infantry and to my 53rd and, from that moment, our firing was more intense, although intermittent.
the morning passed by without any special incident and i took advantage of this for examining our position. in front of us was a glacis something like that of st. privat, but ten times more dangerous, considering the power of firearms at present. it was a horseshoe of fire, skirted with long, low houses, and these were now full of invisible and almost invulnerable defenders. the background consisted of two german trenches, separated by a white house with walls of cracked bricks, which served as a shelter for legions of boches. the whole of the morning, the 75 cannons and the 15 howitzers were directed on these houses, which, we were told, were occupied by picked shooters or by machine-guns. our gunners aimed with wonderful precision, but the shells went through the first wall, burst in the first room, and left the others intact. one out of three of our projectiles set fire to something, which was distinctly better for us.
i was installed behind the first obstacle of a deserted german trench, slightly outside and in front of our line, which i could flank, if necessary, whilst meeting a flank attack. to my left there was a gap opposite the artillery, but on this side no foot-soldier could be seen.
at mid-day, our brave men suddenly cleared the parapet of their trench and advanced, crawling along and firing all the time. the line at once supported them, slightly to the right, and this freed my two machine-guns. we advanced, in our turn, within the fiery circle, from which we could only come out dead or conquerors.
[pg 134]
i decided to leave the 53rd to continue the firing and flank the attack, whilst, making use of the empty boche trench, i could go forward with the 52nd and support the infantry.
"bring the gun," i said to sergeant maréchal; "close the cartridge boxes and follow me."
i then set off to reconnoitre the road along which we had to go and the place to occupy for the firing. i had only to follow the german trench, about two hundred yards long, the end of which i was holding. when i came to the other end of this, i saw that the infantry was advancing at a prodigious rate, under an extremely violent fire of musketry and machine-guns. to my right, in front of me just beyond a cross-road, was a second boche trench which, curiously enough, i had not seen. i cleared the twenty-five yards which separated me from the cross-road. i then went along the ditch and, with a jump, reached the second trench. i went quickly right to the end of it and found that this formed a sort of hook, and that it would be a good position for the firing. i went quickly back to fetch my men and found they had already reached the cross-road. unfortunately it was not possible to free the gun from the trivet of the hotchkiss and, on account of the narrowness of the passage, we had great difficulty in transporting it. we made use of the ditch along the road, and then slipped into the second german trench. to the right, half way along, i caught sight of corporal boreux, of the 14th, out in the open field. he was dragging himself along with his legs bleeding.
"can i have my wounds dressed, lieutenant?" he called out.
"quite impossible, my poor fellow!" i replied.[pg 135] "get down into the ditch, and as soon as the fight is over, you shall be seen to."
the brave foot-soldiers were already at the end of the second boche trench when i arrived and installed my gun.
"lieutenant," said maréchal, "there is a machine-gun firing on us."
he was quite right for, from the right of the little house opposite us, a german gun was sending us its messages. i pointed immediately, at a distance of two hundred yards, and silenced it with the first volley. its r?le was over. i then began to pepper the boche trenches, to the right and left of the little house. my gun worked excellently well and my men were absolutely calm. the brave fellows of the 14th soon passed by and went farther on. in less than a quarter of an hour they had cleared four hundred and fifty yards. the line continued to support them.
"maréchal," i said, "i am going to entrust you with a confidential mission. go and fetch the 53rd and bring it here."
i continued firing, thus neutralising the trench to the right. our artillery was obliged to stop firing on that side, but it peppered the left part and hit the walls and the houses on the main road from louvain to malines with its shrapnels.
the germans had no artillery, which was extremely fortunate for us. my 53rd did not arrive though, and i had decided that, as soon as it came to relieve me, i would go forward and join the left wing of my regiment, in order to give these brave fellows, at any cost, the comfort of the presence of a machine-gun. i wanted to be with them to the end. fearing to arrive too late, i decided to start.
[pg 136]
"come along, boys," i said, "the moment has come for the final blow. forward!"
i seized the right foot of my gun, massart the left one.
janssens gave a hand, and fraikin and collard carried the cartridge cases. with a great effort, we got out of our shelter into the open field. it was more than imprudence, it was almost foolhardiness. my shooting had proved to be very superior to the adversary's though, and the brilliant attack had made me so hopeful. we went along about ten yards, surrounded by a swarm of balls. the german trenches had recommenced firing right and left. at a distance of three hundred yards, their picked shots and their machine-guns were aiming at us. suddenly massart fell, stifling a cry of pain. we all flung ourselves down on the ground. the well-known "kiss, kiss," was whistling through the air.
"who is hit?" i asked. "is it you, hubert?"
"yes, in the arm, lieutenant."
the other men crawled down into the trenches we had just left.
"lieutenant, could i have my arm seen to?" asked hubert.
"who is to do it?" i said. "vile boches! i will pay them for it. get close to the trench, put your head against the parapet, and do not stir from there."
the "kiss, kiss" had ceased, for we were supposed to be all dead, and there were other objectives. i got up and once more began firing, but i was alone now in the midst of the fiery circle. my cousin, lieutenant fernand marissal, who had brought his guns to my right, had stopped firing for the only reason possible. he had just been killed. some boches,[pg 137] hiding in a house had sent him a ball in the head. the sharp-shooters no longer existed, the brave commander magnette had been killed at the head of them. i therefore had to face three sides. i commenced by imposing silence once more on the trench to the left, and a ball grazed my right cheek and nose. it was a violent shock and my face was all bleeding, but, fortunately, my eyes were spared. i continued shooting at the houses on the right and i peppered doors, windows, and roofs. after this i aimed at the trench, which fired back at me. i was hit in the right fore-arm. a vein was cut, and this meant a considerable hemorrhage. i turned up the sleeve of my sweater and found my shirt quite red; my fingers still worked, but with difficulty. i meant to make the men in hiding, on the main road, pay for this. my poor hubert had dragged himself along to the first trench and he said to his comrades, who were now shooting with guns: "what, do you mean to say that the lieutenant is left alone to do the firing? he has been wounded twice. is there no one to help him?" these were his last words. mortally wounded as he was, this hero used his last breath to exhort his comrades to do their duty.
janssens came out of the trench and charged my machine. i was just going to fire, when i was hit on the knee and brought to the ground.
"they have broken my leg!" i said. it certainly was in a strange position, and i pulled it round and stretched it out in front of me. i fired the last strip of cartridges loaded, and all those in the box near me. it was all i could do. janssens had returned to the trench. i took off my right spur, which was twisting my broken leg, and lay down on my back, with my[pg 138] head on my shako, and a map on my face to protect me from the heat of the sun. it was 12.30. the sky was extremely limpid, with whitish clouds here and there. from time to time, the crows flew slowly by, uttering their hoarse croak.
"what are your orders, lieutenant?" suddenly said a voice near me.
it was the brave maréchal, accompanied by corporal treize and private van herck of the 53rd.
"what about the 53rd?" i asked.
"it won't work, lieutenant."
"where is it?"
"we have put it completely out of use."
"is there nothing more to be done then?"
"yes, we are going to move you from here, lieutenant."
"no, my boys," i said, "during action, the wounded cannot be moved." i could not, of course, accept for myself what i had refused twice for my men.
"put the gun out of use," i said.
"we are going to save it, lieutenant."
taking advantage of a lull, he and the other two seized the gun and managed to drag it into the trench. this was a joy to me. the assault had failed. the first line had been massacred and those supporting it had stopped firing. behind us and to the right, the darche company, of the 14th, now occupied the cross-road, where my poor cousin's two guns had been once more brought into action. farther on, and to the left, the moreau company was defending magnette's trench. the balls of this company, as well as those of the enemy, passed over my head. before going away with my 52nd, the good fellows begged affectionately to take me away. i refused[pg 139] categorically, for, as an officer, i wished to share the same fate as the brave soldiers who had fallen during the attack. i put an eighth cartridge into my browning, determined to defend myself to the end. presently, i heard the breathing of my poor hubert massart develop into the death rattle. a significant crispation of the spine caused his chest to swell, his nostrils were ominously drawn. i was present at his death and could do nothing.
as to myself, i was happy and very proud. my blood was flowing freely and i had nothing with which to staunch the wound. fortunately, my tight breeches and my putties served as a sort of harness and, as vigorously as my injured hand allowed me, i fastened the strap of my field-glasses round my thigh.
the combat continued intermittently. at 5.30, a few boche shells were still falling here and there, within the firing range. one of them buried itself a few yards away from me and the soil thrown up by the explosion half covered me. i determined to try and rejoin the darche company and began to drag myself along on my back, with the help of my one leg and my elbows, leaving behind me a line of blood. from time to time, i lifted my arm to show my rank to friends, and i heard them cry out distinctly:
"take care, take care, the lieutenant!"
towards 6.30 i reached the cross-road and, by a miracle, i managed to clear the first ditch. one of the sharp-shooters took me by the shoulders when i arrived at the second one. he dragged me the whole length of the ditch to the left of his company. corporal boreux and other wounded men were there and we were then in safety.
