dixmude
from an account given by ernest collin, a private of the 12th line regiment, and completed by ernest job, a corporal in the same regiment
as soon as the enemy began to attack the forts with an artillery so powerful that no permanent fortifications could resist, the staff realised that antwerp was lost, and that all efforts must be made to save the fighting army.
the retreat began in the evening of the 6th of october. it was admirably organised, but it meant excessive and inevitable fatigue for the troops. the 3rd division, which covered the most exposed flank of the army, had the hardest task, as it was compelled to make continual night marches, without any rest whatever.
from antwerp to ghent, our battalion had to march all the time and our difficulties were increased by the combats we had to wage at lokeren and at oostacker. on their arrival at tronchiennes, on the 9th of october, our men were thoroughly exhausted. the following day, at five in the morning, the 12th line regiment and the greater part of the 3rd division were sent by train to nieuport, where they arrived in the afternoon. the exhaustion of the soldiers was[pg 237] so great that it was necessary to give them two or three days' rest. on the 13th we set off once more, and on the 14th we took up our position along the yser. it was a very good line of defence, reaching from the north sea at boesinghe, along the river as far as knocke and, beyond that town, following the yperlée canal.[8] from nieuport-bains to boesinghe, the line measured about 22 miles, an extent not at all out of proportion to the strength of the belgian army, which was then reduced to 82,000 men with 48,000 guns. the whole country is interspersed with ditches, canals, and rivers, and the supreme resource was that, at nieuport, we had a dyke system which allowed us to inundate the country where german forces might be too strong.
at daybreak, on the 15th of october, we were at work. we made trenches at leke, pervyse, and oudecapelle and we were lodged, more or less comfortably, in sheds and barns. the trenches and the movements of the troops gave us plenty to think about. in the distance, the cannon was roaring, and its sullen voice came nearer and nearer every minute. what was going to happen? all kinds of conjectures came into the minds of the soldiers. for the last two days, they had had no bread, but, fortunately, there were biscuits to appease their hunger. some french bread was then distributed, but, although it was good, it did not take the place of the national brown bread. in a deserted farm, a few dainty-lovers massacred some poor pigs. when they had caught one, in a few seconds it was slaughtered, dressed, and cut up, and then each man went off with his share.
[pg 238]
on the 19th, the 12th line regiment had orders to occupy dixmude. up to that date, this town had been defended by a brigade of marine fusiliers, who had opened fire on the morning of the 16th, in order to drive back a strong body of enemy reconnaissances.
according to the orders communicated to us, the brigade b, which comprised the 11th and 12th, as well as a group of artillery, was placed at the disposal of the french admiral ronarc'h, to whom the defence of the dixmude bridge-head had been entrusted.
the admiral gave orders to the brigade b to hold the bridge-head on the right bank of the yser, whilst his sailors, attached to the belgian 5th division, would execute an offensive in a northerly direction.
our immediate chiefs were colonel jacques, commanding the 12th regiment, and colonel meiser, commanding the brigade. i have mentioned the names of these courageous officers, as it will be understood that, led by such men, the troops had confidence and it was certain that the soldiers would all do their duty. we were absolutely responsible for the defence of the yser. the king had appealed to us, asking us to hold this line for the next forty-eight hours, although it was probable that the germans would do their utmost to pierce it. we had all given our word to die rather than to yield this last shred of our territory.
on the 19th of october, which was a bright, sunshiny day, the regiment was assembled at oudecapelle. we were fully aware that serious things were taking place, but the colonel, with a smile, announced a great victory. we strapped up our kits gaily and set off, thinking of our return to reconquered liége.
we gradually approached our poor, unfortunate[pg 239] dixmude. when we entered the town, we were surrounded by an anxious, but sympathetic population. very many refugees were already on the way towards more favoured countries. these poor people, flying from the invaded towns and villages, had been wandering aimlessly day and night, in search of a safe and hospitable district. on seeing them, i was seized with fury against our relentless enemy, and i thought of my own family and of all those i loved, whom i should, perhaps, never see again.
we passed through the town and took up our position in the trenches, which had been quickly prepared in front of the bridge-head. there was no doubt but that we were going to fight again. and what a fight it would be! the fate of the allies depended on our resisting to the uttermost. if the enemy crossed, we were conquered. with the most determined resolution, we began to improve our position. the marine fusiliers had only done the rough part of digging out the trenches. there was no accessory defence whatever, no wire, and nothing demolished, so that our defence would be infinitely more difficult. beside this, certain trenches had been established against the coverts. the first thing to do was to complete the trenches and to clear the firing range within the near zone. we set to work energetically. it was three o'clock in the afternoon. my friend job was at work fortifying the parapet of our shelter, and i was a little ahead of him clearing away whatever obstructed the outlook. suddenly, i heard a whizzing sound and a shell destroyed the trench. several more followed and i was knocked down. i got up again and ran to shelter. the shells showered down, and all kinds of débris were blown up in the air.[pg 240] i looked round for job and, just at this moment, a projectile fell straight on to his parapet, which crumbled away, burying him under it. this was a terrible moment of anxiety, but he managed to extricate himself and, with a very red face, escaped to another trench. the bombardment continued and, at the end of an hour, the firing took a longer range and projectiles burst on the town itself. it took us a little time to recover. we then went back to our holes, or rather we had to make fresh ones, as nothing remained but a heap of rubbish, and i could neither find my arms nor my kit. i was obliged to take those of a wounded man near.
at six o'clock in the evening, we were informed that the 5th army division, together with the marine fusiliers, was to cross the yser and pass to the left bank. the troops in position were to protect this retreat. the night was fairly tranquil and it was raining even in the trenches. the soldiers were dozing, with their arms ready in case of an attack. each man was his own sentinel in these inconvenient holes. finally, after long hours of anguish and of anxiety, the darkness was over and the dawn comforted us. we were very weary and we hoped to have a little rest. alas, the enemy was advancing and threatening us again. at eight o'clock, on the 20th of october, the bombardment commenced. it was an incessant shower of big shrapnels and of mine shells, a sort of torpedo shell, which burst with a deafening noise and an opaque smoke. the moral effect was immense, although the material damage was not very great. job and i were lying face downwards against the parapet, helpless and dazed, expecting to be killed every second.
[pg 241]
for long hours, that seemed like centuries, we heard these fatal whizzings, these formidable explosions, and saw our men lying still like so many wax-work figures. no one moved, no one spoke and no one could eat anything. only the sound of heavy breathing broke the silence of the trenches. and this torture endured until two in the afternoon. suddenly, our advance sentinels signalled the arrival of germans in masses. the bombardment was the prelude to an infantry attack, which began at half-past two in the afternoon. the artillery firing took longer aim, in order to reach points behind our line. dixmude was bombarded to the uttermost, in order to prevent the arrival of reserves to our trenches. in the german lines, a ceaseless infantry firing then took place and the lines gradually advanced. the enemy made use of the ground and the numerous coverts in the district, as the firing zone had not been cleared to any great extent. the enemy troops did not reach the assault position, as the firing of our men caused them considerable losses.
at this moment, my platoon chief sent me to ask the captain for some information. i crawled away, but on my return i found my chief wounded. i wanted to take him away, but the captain insisted on my returning to the trench. our cannons were being directed on to a wood from which the enemy was coming. the battle was engaged and we were all possessed with the fever of war and were shooting from everywhere. dixmude was buried under showers of shells and shrapnels. the germans appeared rapidly on all sides. we were threatened on our left and, under the intense and murderous fire, the company which had joined us had all its[pg 242] officers either killed or wounded. the position was impossible to hold. the men still left evacuated the trenches and went about two hundred yards farther back. in spite of his energy, the major was thinking of falling back, when a company of the 11th arrived, accompanied by marine fusiliers. these brave men marched forward and reoccupied the lost trenches. many of my comrades had been struck down. i took one of them away who had been dazed by the explosion of a shell in his trench. i then came back, crouching in the ditches to avoid the balls. the shells were falling on every side. we did not trouble any more about them, as it was just luck whether we were hit or not. i wondered whether job were still living. i did not know and i could not see him anywhere.
it was getting dark. we were now in the park, scattered about as sharp-shooters behind a hedge. in front of us were the trenches occupied by our men, reinforced by the fusiliers. balls were whizzing about everywhere. lying down sideways, i hollowed out the earth with my shovel and made a slight parapet. the firing became more and more intense. the boches were beginning a fresh assault and we could hear them distinctly shouting "hoch! lebe der kaiser!" it was a sight never to be forgotten. in the trenches, and in the park, a strange-looking swarm of men. by the light of the flashes from the firing, we could see dark figures gliding about, running to the right, to the left, or forward. the belgians and the french were all mingling and making frantic efforts. the artillery ceased, and then the guns and machine-guns continued alone. what a diabolical concert it was! it seemed as though hell itself had[pg 243] been let loose. with their fruitless assaults, the boches made an infernal uproar. they yelled like savages, their clarions rang out, and they were beating their drums. the cannon began again, and the machine-guns told their beads, whilst the rifles discharged murderous volleys. in the midst of the darkness we could hear shouts, calls, orders, exclamations of all kinds. certain french soldiers, in spite of the danger, when the boches ran away, seized all kinds of utensils and banged the metal together, making an indescribable din. it was tragically comic, for in the very fiercest of the fight they were joking.
the enemy tried in vain to take our trenches. those who came near enough to us were mown down. it was a regular massacre. listening intently, i could hear the imperious commands of the german officers and the obstinate refusal of the soldiers, who were in revolt against the task imposed upon them.
towards eleven o'clock, during a lull, we were quietly relieved, and, feeling a little more reassured, we went back to dixmude. we were supplied with provisions and, incredible though it may seem, we spent the night in the attic of a house. no one could sleep. we all had the impression that we should neither leave the town, nor even that house, alive. the shooting continued and we could hear the echo of it. it seemed very near and one would have thought the fighting was taking place in the street. finally, the cannon began again. the german tactics are to prepare infantry attacks by a violent bombardment. in the first days of the war, this bombardment lasted three hours and then the attack took place. if this failed, the bombardment began again and gradually increased in intensity.
[pg 244]
at the first glimmer of daylight, on the 21st, the captain called us together under the porch of the house where we had slept. platoon by platoon, we were to cross the square, at full speed, where the projectiles were dropping. there was a second of hesitation, then the gate was opened and the first group rushed out. at the same instant, a shell burst at our side. the officer and twelve men were wounded.
i left the house, cautiously, with a few comrades, by the garden gate at the back. we slipped along under cover of the shattered houses and reached the bridge, which was in a shaky condition. on this side of the town, trudging along in the mud and rain, there was a pitiful procession of women, children, old men, and indeed the whole population which had remained in the town until now and which was now escaping in terror.
what a sigh of relief we gave when we had once crossed the bridge and were safely on the other side! we went through the ruined village of caeskerke, the church of which was still burning, and we were then in the country. about two miles away from the town, in the fields, the battalion was re-formed. the various companies then separated and lay down amongst the verdure, in order to escape being seen by the enemy. about forty of our men were missing. there were about double that number still in our company. a little warm soup restored us after all the emotions of the last few hours. job and i were unhurt, we had certainly escaped very narrowly. we were quite joyful, and we told each other various details and exchanged opinions. we almost forgot the furnace we had left, as we joked together. then[pg 245] the remembrance of those we had left behind saddened us once more.
suddenly, some shells passed over us. their whizzing, and the formidable explosions that followed, warned us that these were not exactly children's playthings. the enemy had no doubt discovered us, for the projectiles dropped very near. we were obliged to move about frequently and to cross the brooks and canals, with which the whole district is interspersed, with the greatest speed. it was by no means easy always and several of us had an unexpected bath. on the road, behind us, the "big blackies" kept bursting, and one of them exploded on an artillery waggon. that was a tragical moment, and we never saw anything more of the waggon, the driver, or the horses.
finally, after a hundred events of one kind or another, it began to get dark once more. we were quartered for the night in the village of oostkerke. nothing happened during the night, but in the distance we could hear the ceaseless firing of guns and cannon.
the following day, october 22nd, we made trenches all day long, covering them with material which we fetched from the half-deserted village. we went there along the railroad, thus avoiding the canals. towards mid-day, an armoured-train arrived by rail, bringing some english cannons. at last, we said to ourselves, we were to have some heavy artillery, with which to reply to the boches. job and i were just on our way back from the village, carrying a beam on our shoulders, and this prevented our seeing the signal. the cannon was suddenly fired, and we two found ourselves on the ground with the beam in[pg 246] front of us. we got up, almost stunned, and took ourselves quickly out of the way.
the enemy replied promptly and, in front of us, just before the railway line, the "no. 15 cigars" kept dropping. each time that a projectile arrived, with its ominous whizz, we raised our heads, instinctively, just to see where it burst. fortunately for us, not one of them reached us. we spent the night in our shelters, narrow holes in which we were obliged to remain close together like sardines, half stifled and cramped.
on the 23rd, we continued our work until towards six in the evening. we had almost finished when orders were brought to us. our battalion was to return once more in the direction of dixmude. this was not very re-assuring, but we made our way back, passing again through the ruins of caeskerke. the white tower of the church was blazing and its gleams lit up the darkness of the night. we had been walking for a long time and were now moving about, backwards and forwards, waiting for definite instructions. they came at last; we were to reinforce the dixmude troops. we set out in the darkness. a volley of shrapnels exploded over our heads. the men jumped into the ditch which runs along the road and buried themselves as well as they could. a few minutes later, as all was calm, we continued our way. when we were near dixmude, we took shelter in the houses. we kept a lookout, with our arms ready, as we formed the assaulting column. if the germans crossed our lines, we should have to use our bayonets. fortunately they were too well-behaved, or rather too weak.
towards four in the morning, we went to the relief[pg 247] of our comrades. to reach the trenches, we had to cross the shaky bridge again. we did this in indian file and then kept close to the shattered walls. we went down the narrow streets filled with rubbish and, here and there, with the dead. we were constantly obliged to fling ourselves suddenly down, no matter where, and behind no matter what, as the big calibre shrapnels kept coming all the time. at a certain moment they followed us, and several of us were seriously wounded. after a hundred incidents, we managed, by crawling along, to cross the park and reach the trenches. our companions in misfortune went silently away and we organised the position. behind us, in the mysterious darkness, we kept seeing long blood-red trails, and these were followed by terrible explosions. our cannons were carrying death, in their turn, to the enemy lines. i shall never forget those doleful whizzings, that clanging sound of steel, that noise of air filling the vacuum, roaring like a wild sea and then, in the distance, those formidable explosions which intoxicate one and make one thrill with excitement.
it was almost dawn on the 24th, and we were concealing ourselves as best we could, for it was impossible to come out for anything whatever. everything had to be done secretly, as the german captive balloons were overhead watching everything. the bombardment began once more and the whole earth shook. over our heads, the shells kept flying. we heard them burst, with a terrible noise, either in the park behind us, or on the town. one of them entered the cellar of a large house and exploded in the midst of our musicians, who were hiding there. some of them were killed and many of them were[pg 248] wounded. as for us, we were all crouching down in the trenches. some of us were watching and the others talking. no one could smile that day, and our only occupation was to keep watch on the horizon, in the direction of the enemy, and to notice where the shells exploded.
sometimes we were aimed at, and then we could do nothing but collect ourselves together, as it were, with our knapsacks on our backs and wait anxiously until the whizz should pass over us. the number of projectiles which fell beyond our positions is incredible. in front of us, we were faced by death and behind us by devastation. the ground between us and the wood in which the enemy was sheltering was covered with dead animals, cows, horses, pigs, and sheep. at times, i saw one of these animals move. there were even two sheep which were browsing tranquilly, but all the life that remained was doomed to destruction. there was not the slightest lull in the storm all day long. at four in the afternoon, a violent infantry attack began. this attack was repulsed and the bombardment began again as fresh as ever. all night long, there was a succession of bombardments of the trenches and of all the neighbouring ground, followed by infantry attacks. the latter were no longer like the attacks we had been having. i had the impression that there was a certain confusion in the direction of them, and that it was more difficult to commence them. after a few minutes, though, there was more zeal and it was a terrible struggle all along the line, finishing with the assault. the attack did not last very long and, almost before the end of it, the bombardment began again. in the execution of these operations, there was admirable[pg 249] co-ordination, on the enemy's side, between the infantry and the artillery action, and this co-ordination was such that when our troops no longer heard the fall of shells in the immediate neighbourhood of the trenches, they were certain of the infantry attack. as soon as the bombardment ceased, there was firing all along the line and then, as the line approached, the shouts of the assault could always be heard. as the night advanced, the firing was no longer regular but by fits and starts. hesitation could be felt. as to the defence, full latitude was given to the commanders of every company. "as soon as the assault has failed," the major had said, "get your men in hand again as much as possible, and fire in volleys." each time i heard these volleys i was glad, for, as i said to myself, the enemy is beating a retreat at some point. the second the volleys ceased, the bombardment recommenced and our infantry, crouching in the trenches, did not reply. the damage was not very serious, as it is extremely difficult to hit very slight trenches, so that it was only from time to time that an enemy shell really reached them, burying a few men and breaking up the line. when this did happen, we were quickly at work re-establishing our communication, getting the victims from under the ground and sometimes burying them a few yards behind the line. it is impossible to find words of sufficient praise for the heroism of our soldiers in such frightful circumstances. it must be remembered that our poor troops were facing masses of infantry in overwhelming superiority of number, that they were exposed to a huge quantity of heavy field artillery, and that they could not reckon on the support of our field batteries, as these were held at[pg 250] bay by huge german cannons of very much longer range.
beyond our lines, dixmude was burning. the continual bombardment had reduced its houses to ashes. the streets were no longer practicable, as the high pile of ruins made it impossible for a foot-passenger to walk through them. this fact greatly complicated the question of ammunition supply. from the rear, we had been informed that the waggons could no longer cross the yser bridge, nearly a mile away from our positions. men were sent constantly through the town to fetch sacks of cartridges and, on account of the great quantity of ammunition needed, this going backwards and forwards was continual. this ammunition was brought to a kind of stable near, and then carried to our fighting posts by supply agents.
on the 25th, as soon as it was daylight, the bombardment began again more violently than ever. with my field-glasses, i looked at the plain. here and there i could see enemy patrols and trenches. at the fringe of the wood, just beyond, i saw troops gliding along and i thought i could see a german on the lookout behind the chimney of a house. at a certain moment, a battery of the enemy light artillery took position about 1500 yards away from us. it began firing and its projectiles almost grazed us. we informed our artillery, which answered feebly. we were furious at this, for we did not know that our gunners were short of ammunition. we had lost our antwerp stores and the french supply was not yet organised.[9] in[pg 251] spite of all this, and with our poor resources, we resisted these mass attacks prepared by a diabolical artillery. on that day, i still had courage enough to write a few words in my note book, whilst dixmude was crumbling away under the 210 and 280 shells. everything trembled, the heavens, the earth and—the men. the taubes were hovering over us constantly. they were trying to discover our positions, which they indicated by dropping white fuses. a shower of shrapnels and shells informed us of the result of this information.
our soldiers presently began to complain. they had nothing to smoke, and some of them began to cut the handles of their knapsacks into shreds. several of them were ill from this privation and among these was our lieutenant, the only one left among us. life now was a martyrdom. after all our overwork and fatigue, we had nothing with which to sustain ourselves, and we felt our strength giving way. we could not get any more provisions and we had no more warm food, as our kitchen had been destroyed at dixmude by the shells.
the enemy was approaching and we wondered whether we were going to be relieved or reinforced. alas, no! there was nothing for it but to go on watching, with our bayonets ready, whilst the "big blackies" fell round us all the time. quite near to us, on the keyem road and in the park, huge trees were mown clean down and enormous craters, with charred edges, hollowed by these murderous engines of warfare. sometimes fragments of the shells fell at our feet, or passed over our shelter with a whizz, burying themselves deeply in the ground. certain projectiles entered the ground without bursting, causing us great anxiety. our flasks had long been empty and we[pg 252] were literally dying of thirst. our commander asked if a few men would volunteer to fetch some wine from the town. i went with three or four comrades. dixmude was a lamentable sight. the streets were all torn up and filled with ruins and rubbish of all kinds. the houses were all destroyed and as empty as eggshells. what was underneath all that? probably, both living and dead, riches and art-treasures. i saw the body of a poor mother, with haggard eyes and clenched teeth. she seemed to me like a reproach to the germans for their odious war. near her was a young child, which looked as though it were sleeping. what a number of wrecked houses! furniture, carpets, and curtains strewed the ground, all this saccaged by man returned to a savage state. if the enemy should take the unfortunate city, i thought, he will only have conquered ruins. at the relief station, i found my lieutenant stretched out on the ground between two boches. one of these was groaning all the time, the other one was a very young man, scarcely seventeen, i should think. to see my lieutenant near these two gave me a pang.
we managed to get some wine and then returned to the trench. the distribution of this precious liquid caused our men a little joy and made them more hopeful. each of them was ready to go to work again with fresh energy. a little later, my friend job went with a few other men to get some more wine and some cartridges. they were less lucky than we were, for one of them had both legs broken. another one had the good luck to escape uninjured, although the bottle he was holding was smashed by a bullet.
when the darkness came on again, things looked[pg 253] very threatening. after sprinkling our trenches with projectiles of every calibre, the german artillery bombarded the town, in order to prevent any reserves from coming to our relief. the enemy then came out from a wood and moved a little to our right, in the direction of the cemetery, where our 2nd battalion was lying in wait. the shells fell there in quantities, damaging the tombs and causing a fearful scene. the vaults and tombs opened under the fire and coffins were exposed to view. when our courageous soldiers fell, in the midst of this furnace, we saw what will probably never be seen again, the living buried alive and the dead brought out of their graves....
at daybreak, on the 25th of october, the germans, in a compact mass, came out of a small wood and moved rapidly, with heads lowered, marching in column, four abreast, towards a canal which separated them from us and which was crossed by only one bridge. by means of a little ditch along the bank, they were able to deploy as sharp-shooters and, in this way, they attempted to cross the bridge. our men were watching though, and sprinkled the passage with shot, which meant death to the enemy. the bridge was soon obstructed and the dead men were piled up one on the top of the other. the heaps of dead were as high as a man. in spite of this, these loathsome beasts, for they are no longer human beings, crawled up behind their brothers-in-arms, climbed up on to the top of the dead men and ... fell down from there, under the fire of our machine-guns. the more lucky ones, those who were not hit, fell into the ditch and, getting up again, rushed on to the assault with hoarse cries, only to be killed as they came nearer to us. they were in such quanti[pg 254]ties though, and they came on so quickly, that we could not bring them all down and some of them crossed to the right of us. mad with excitement and eager for carnage, three or four hundred boches crossed our line and rushed on into dixmude, uttering wild beast cries and hoping to cause a panic amongst us. the wild band was stopped at the yser bridge by the fire of our machine-guns. several fell under the murderous storm and rolled into the canal; the others wheeled round and divided into several detachments. in the town itself, there was now a terrible chase, and a sanguinary hand-to-hand struggle between the boches and us. we were able to take some of them prisoners though. hidden in the cellars, as soon as they caught sight of our patrols, they held up their hands in fear and trembling, and begged for mercy. those who offered the least resistance were shot down. soon after, our advance sentinels captured some of the enemy who had escaped the massacre. they were crawling along the canal side, hoping to get back to their lines. these were the last of the band. in spite of all their efforts, the germans had not crossed the yser, nor broken our resistance. the belgians and the french fusiliers were the conquerors. the entrances to our trenches were strewn with enemy equipment and arms, and a few yards in front of us lay dead bodies pêle-mêle. our soldiers searched these bodies and handed over a lot of things to the chiefs. certain sums of money and jewellery and watches found on the enemy were given back to us, as we frequently had the proof that these objects had been taken from the belgians.
once more night came on, putting an end to the terrible work of the day. our sentinels, in absolute[pg 255] silence, went back to their outposts, and we waited for the comrades who were to replace us in the trenches. our food was all gone and nothing more to eat or drink was brought to us. we began to get very anxious. at eleven o'clock, the senegalese came to take possession of our trenches. these brave soldiers came so quietly that they took us almost by surprise. they are tall, strong fellows, and in the dusk only their eyes and teeth can be seen shining in contrast to their black skin. we were glad to have them with us. they had scarcely been there half an hour, when the enemy attacked them, but without any success. the senegalese rushed forward to meet the enemy, whom they repulsed with their bayonets and knives. as to us, glad to be free for a time, we marched along with big strides in spite of our fatigue. there was a death-like silence in dixmude. the stretcher-bearers, taking away the wounded, were all that gave to these smoking ruins a little life. we crossed the shaky bridge over the yser once more and moved on, after giving a last sad look at the huge pile of débris, with its dead, which was all that was left of the town.
on the road, our major told us that we were going to have a rest, that our banner had just been decorated with the "order of leopold," and that the name of "dixmude" was to be embroidered on it in gold letters.
footnotes:
[8] the campaign of the belgian army.
[9] the artillery ammunition began to be scarce a few days later. towards the 25th it was chiefly the congested traffic of the railroads which interfered with the supply.
