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THE STORY OF THE GREAT WAR

History of the European War from Official Sources

Complete Historical Records of Events to Date,
Illustrated with Drawings, Maps, and Photographs

Prefaced by

What the War Means to America
Major General Leonard Wood, U.S.A.

Naval Lessons of the War
Rear Admiral Austin M. Knight, U.S.N.

The World's War
Frederick Palmer

Theatres of the War's Campaigns
Frank H. Simonds

The War Correspondent
Arthur Ruhl

Edited by

Francis J. Reynolds
Former Reference Librarian of Congress

Allen L. Churchill
Associate Editor, The New International Encyclopedia

Francis Trevelyan Miller
Editor in Chieft, Photographic History of the Civil War

P. F. Collier & Son Company
New York


[Illustration: _Kaiser Wilhelm II, German Emperor, inspecting
Austro-Hungarian troops on the East Galician front, New Year's Day,
1916. At the Kaiser's left is General Count von Bothmer_]


THE STORY OF THE GREAT WAR

Champagne · Artois · Grodno
Fall of Nish · Caucasus
Mesopotamia · Development
of Air Strategy · United
States and the War

VOLUME IV







P · F · Collier & Son · New York

Copyright 1916
By P. F. Collier & Son




CONTENTS


PART I.--WAR IN SYRIA AND EGYPT

CHAPTER                                                           Page

        I. Renewed Turkish Attempts                                  9


PART II.--WAR IN THE AIR

       II. Raids of the Airmen                                      16

      III. Zeppelins Attack London--Battles in the Air              29

       IV. Venice Attacked--Other Raids                             34


PART III.--THE WESTERN FRONT

        V. Summary of First Year's Operations                       39

       VI. Fighting in Artois and the Vosges                        46

      VII. Political Crisis in France--Aeroplane Warfare--Fierce
             Combats in the Vosges--Preparations for Allied
             Offense                                                52

     VIII. The Great Champagne Offensive                            61

       IX. The British Front in Artois                              81

        X. The Battle of Loos                                       90

       XI. The Cavell Case--Accident to King George                 98

      XII. Operations in Champagne And Artois--Preparations for
             Winter Campaign                                       104

     XIII. Events in the Winter Campaign                           117

      XIV. The Battle of Verdun--The German Attack                 131


PART IV.--THE WAR AT SEA

       XV. Naval Situation at the Beginning of the Second
             Year--Submarine Exploits                              143

      XVI. The Sinking of the Arabic--British Submarine Successes  150

     XVII. Cruise of the Moewe--Loss of British Battleships        156

    XVIII. Continuation of War on Merchant Shipping--Italian
             and Russian Naval Movements--Sinking of La
             Provence                                              165


PART V.--THE WAR ON THE EASTERN FRONT

      XIX. Summary of First Year's Operations                      174

       XX. The Fall of the Niemen and Nareff Fortresses            178

      XXI. The Conquest of Grodno and Vilna                        185

     XXII. The Capture of Brest-Litovsk                            193

    XXIII. The Struggle in East Galicia and Volhynia and the
             Capture of Pinsk                                      200

     XXIV. In the Pripet Marshes                                   209

      XXV. Fighting on the Dvina and in the Dvina-Vilna Sector     212

     XXVI. Winter Battles on the Styr and Strypa Rivers            223

    XXVII. On the Tracks of the Russian Retreat                    229

   XXVIII. Sidelights on the Russian Retreat and German
             Advance                                               240

     XXIX. Winter on the Eastern Front                             250


PART VI.--THE BALKANS

      XXX. Battle Clouds Gather Again                              255

     XXXI. The Invasion Begins                                     263

    XXXII. Bulgaria Enters the War                                 269

   XXXIII. The Teutonic Invasion Rolls on                          273

    XXXIV. The Fall of Nish--Defense of Babuna Pass                282

     XXXV. Bulgarian Advance--Serbian Resistance                   290

    XXXVI. End of German Operations--Flight of Serb People--Greece 300

   XXXVII. Allies Withdraw into Greece--Attitude of Greek
             Government                                            308

  XXXVIII. Bulgarian Attacks--Allies Concentrate at Saloniki       316

    XXXIX. Italian Movements in Albania--Conquest of Montenegro    327

       XL. Conditions in Serbia, Greece, and Rumania               339


PART VII.--THE DARDANELLES AND RUSSO-TURKISH CAMPAIGN

      XLI. Conditions in Gallipoli--Attack at Suvla Bay            344


PART VIII.--AGGRESSIVE TURKISH CAMPAIGN AT DARDANELLES

     XLII. Sari Bair--Partial Withdrawal of Allies                 353

    XLIII. Aggressive Turkish Movements--Opinion in England--Change
             in Command                                            357

     XLIV. Abandonment of Dardanelles--Armenian Atrocities         369

      XLV. Campaign in Caucasus--Fall of Erzerum                   380


PART IX.--ITALY IN THE WAR

     XLVI. Review OF Preceding Operations--Italian Movements       393

    XLVII. Italy's Relations to the Other Warring Nations          399

   XLVIII. Problems of Strategy                                    404

     XLIX. Move Against Germany                                    410

        L. Renewed Attacks--Italy's Situation At the Beginning
             of March, 1916                                        413


PART X.--CAMPAIGN IN MESOPOTAMIA

       LI. Operations Against Bagdad and Around the Tigris         419

      LII. Advance Toward Bagdad--Battle of Kut-el-Amara           426

     LIII. Battle of Ctesiphon                                     437

      LIV. Stand at Kut-el-Amara--Attempts at Relief               444


PART XI.--THE WAR IN THE AIR

       LV. Development of the Strategy and Tactics of Air
             Fighting                                              454

      LVI. Zeppelin Raids--Attacks on German Arms Factories--German
             Over-Sea Raids                                        459

     LVII. Attacks on London--Bombardment of Italian Ports--Aeroplane
             as Commerce Destroyer                                 466

    LVIII. Air Fighting on all Fronts--Losses                      473


PART XII.--THE UNITED STATES AND THE BELLIGERENTS

      LIX. Sinking of the Arabic--Another Crisis--Germany's
             Defense and Concessions                               480

       LX. Issue with Austria-Hungary Over the Ancona--Surrender
             to American Demands                                   490

      LXI. The Lusitania Deadlock--Agreement Blocked by Armed
             Merchantmen Issue--Crisis in Congress                 496

     LXII. Developments of Pro-German Propaganda--Munitions
             Crusade Defended--New Aspects of American Policy      505




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


  Kaiser Wilhelm Inspecting His Troops                  _Frontispiece_

                                                         Opposite Page
  Zigzag Trenches in the Champagne                                  62

  German Infantry Storming a Hill                                   94

  General Joffre and General Pétain                                142

  Austrian Infantry in Russia                                      238

  Constructing a Bridge Over the Danube                            270

  British Hydroplane on Guard at Saloniki                          318

  Aeroplane Guns on Turntable                                      462

  Firing a Torpedo from the Deck of a Destroyer                    494




LIST OF MAPS

                                                                  Page
  Middle Europe--The German Vision of an Empire from the Baltic
    to the Persian Gulf (_Colored Map_)                 _Front Insert_

  Champagne District, The                                           63

  Battle in Champagne, September, 1915, Detail Map of               69

  Artois Region, September, 1915, The French Gains in               86

  Battle at Loos, The                                               95

  Verdun, The Forts at                                             134

  Verdun, Fighting at, up to March 1, 1916                         141

  Verdun (_Colored Map_)                                _Opposite_ 142

  Kiel Canal                                                       167

  Russia, The Battle Front in, January 1, 1916                     228

  Balkan (Serbian) Operations, General Map of                      262

  German-Austro-Bulgar Campaign Against Serbia, The Beginning
    of the                                                         268

  Retreat of Serbians                                              304

  Saloniki, The Allies at                                          324

  Montenegro, The Austrian Campaign in                             335

  Dardanelles, Operations at the                                   368

  Turkish Empire, The                                              381

  Turkey in Armenia, The Russian Advance on                        390

  Bagdad Railroad, The                                             420

  Russian Advance Through Persia, The                              438

  Mesopotamia, The British Campaign in                             451




PART I--WAR IN SYRIA AND EGYPT




CHAPTER I

RENEWED TURKISH ATTEMPTS


The leaders of the Turkish troops had been hard at work arousing the
fanaticism of the Turkish soldiery against the British foe before the
next day's battle began. It is due these noisy "Holy Warriors" that
sentries of the Fifth Egyptian Field Battery were warned of the near
presence of the enemy.

The Indian troops now took the offensive, supported by the warships
and mountain and field artillery. The Serapeum garrison, consisting of
Ninety-second Punjabis and Rajputs, now cleared its front of the enemy
who had been stopped three-quarters of a mile away. A counterattack
made by the Sixty-second Punjabis of the Tussum garrison drove the
Turks back. Two battalions of the Turkish Twenty-eighth Regiment now
joined the fight, but the British artillery threw them into disorder,
and by 3 p. m. of February 3, 1915, the Moslems were in retreat,
leaving behind them a rear guard of a few hundred men hidden in the
gaps among the brush along the eastern bank.

The warships on Lake Timsah had been in action since morning, and the
sand hills near Ismailia were at first crowded by civilians and
soldiers eager to witness the fight, until the Turkish guns to the
east and southeast of the Ferry post drove them in cover.

About 11 a. m. an old unprotected Indian Marine transport, H. M. S.
_Hardinge_, was struck by two 6-inch shells. One carried away the
funnel and the other burst inboard doing much damage. Two of the crew
were killed and nine wounded. George Carew, the pilot, lost a leg, but
continued on duty and helped to bring the injured vessel into
Ismailia. The French coast guard battleship _Requin_ came now under
the Turkish fire, but her 10.8-inch guns soon silenced the enemy's
batteries.

The morning of February 3, 1915, the Turks advanced on the Ismailia
Ferry, then held by Sikhs, Punjabi Rifles, a battery of Indian
mountain artillery and Australian engineers, digging shelter pits as
they moved forward, covered by two field batteries. Their advance was
stopped by the British guns when they had come within 1,000 yards of
the outpost line. During the afternoon the Turks kept up some
desultory firing that was ineffective; they also engaged in some
reconnoitering of British positions during the dark night that
followed, but when morning broke they had all disappeared.

Meanwhile, at El Kantara the struggle had reached much the same
conclusion. The Indian troops had repelled an advance from the south,
in which two Turkish regiments, the Eightieth and Eighty-first of the
Twenty-seventh Division, were engaged. H.M.S. _Swiftsure_, which had
taken the place of the disabled _Hardinge_, aided by Indian and
Territorial artillery, did effective work in covering the British
positions. The nature of the ground here was so marshy that in places
the Turks sank to their waists in muddy ooze, and foredoomed their
attack to failure. Again it was demonstrated that they are poor
strategists and fail to make careful observations of the terrain
before advancing to attack. At El Ferdan, where some Turks made a
demonstration with a battery about this time, there were no losses,
though the gunboat _Clio_ was hit several times. At El Kantara, where
a part of General Cox's brigade of Gurkhas, Sikhs, and Punjabis were
engaged, there were thirty casualties.

Between Tussum and Serapeum there was some sniping during the late
afternoon of February 3 from the east bank of the canal, during which
a British sailor was killed on H.M.S. _Swiftsure_. The desultory
firing continued during the night and through the early morning of
February 4. A deplorable incident occurred this day in which a brave
British officer and several of his men were the victims of Turkish
treachery. Several hundred Turks had been discovered by half a
battalion of Ninety-second Punjabis sent out from Serapeum. In the
encounter that followed, some of the Turks held up their hands as a
sign of surrender, while others continued to fire. Captain Cochran of
the Ninety-second company, who was advancing with his men to take the
surrender, was killed. A few of his soldiers also fell, and some
others were wounded. The British took a prompt and complete revenge
for the loss of these men. After being reenforced by Indian troops
they overpowered the enemy in a hand-to-hand struggle, in which a
Turkish officer was killed by a British officer in a sword combat. The
Turks had lost in this brisk engagement about 120 killed and wounded,
and 6 officers and 25 men were captured with 3 Maxim guns.

The Turkish attempts at Suez on February 2, 1915, were insignificant,
and did not cost the British the loss of a single man. By nightfall,
just as their compatriots had done along other parts of the canal, the
Turks fled in the direction of Nakhl, Djebel, Habeite, and Katia. On
the afternoon of the 4th, when the fighting between Serapeum and
Tussum was concluded, Indian cavalry and various patrols captured some
men and war materials. At Ismailia preparations were under way to
pursue the retreating Turks across the canal. This plan, for some
reason, was subsequently abandoned.

During these various fights along the canal, the British had lost 115
killed and wounded, a small number considering the character of the
ground and the very numerous attacks and skirmishes. Nine hundred
Turks were buried or found drowned in the canal, 650 were taken
prisoners, while it is estimated that between 1,500 and 2,000 must
have been wounded. The brunt of the struggle fell on the Indian
troops, who, in general, fought with great bravery. There were some
Australian and Egyptian troops engaged who proved themselves valuable
auxiliaries.

In these engagements along the canal the Syrian Moslems displayed even
greater bravery than the Turks, who were not lacking in intrepidity,
though they showed poor judgment. They had much to learn in the way of
taking cover, and would often blindly advance over difficult ground
that placed them at a disadvantage.

Djemal Pasha had evidently counted on an Egyptian rising, and perhaps
a mutiny of the Indian Moslem troops, but he showed that he entirely
misjudged their sentiments, as they displayed great bitterness toward
the Turks during the fighting, and attacked them in a thoroughly
vindictive spirit. If Djemal had not counted on help from these
quarters he would probably not have attempted to break through the
British positions covering a ninety-mile front with such a small
force. It was estimated that he had about 25,000 men, but not more
than half of these were brought into action at any given point where
they might have achieved some success. The Turks had burned up some
war material and left a few deserters behind them, but they had
retreated in good order, and the British commanders had reason to
believe that they should soon be heard from again, and that a main
attack was contemplated.

On February 6, 1915, British aeroplane observers discovered that the
Turks in front of the Tussum-Deversoir section had gathered at Djebel,
Habeite, and were strongly reenforced. It appeared that Djemal was now
preparing to attack in force. The British were quite ready for them,
having been reenforced on February 3 and 4 by the Seventh and Eighth
Australian battalions, a squadron of the Duke of Lancaster's Own
Yeomanry, and the Herts, and Second County of London Yeomanry. But the
British hopes of a decisive engagement were blighted by the general
retirement of the Turkish army with their reenforcements.

They crossed the desert successfully, thanks to the organizing skill
of Kress von Kressenstein and Roshan Bey, and set off for the Turkish
base at Beersheba, spreading the news along the road that they had won
a victory and would soon return to Egypt and achieve another, this by
way of keeping the Syrians reassured that success was on the Moslem
side.

In January, 1915, the commander of Turkish troops at Fort Nakhl,
hearing that the Government quarantine station at Tor was undefended,
sent a body of men under two German officers to occupy the place. The
raiders found on their arrival at Tor that about 200 Egyptian soldiers
were in occupation and waited there until they received
reenforcements, which brought their force up to 400 men. For the time
they occupied a small village about five miles north of Tor,
occasionally firing a shot at long range and sending arrogant messages
to the Egyptians. On February 11 a detachment of Ghurkas embarked
secretly from Suez, and advancing over the hills in the rear of the
Turks, surprised their position on the following morning. In the
encounter that followed the Turks were annihilated. Sixty lay dead on
the field, and over a hundred, including a Turkish officer, were made
prisoners. On the British side one Ghurka was killed and another
wounded. It was a disappointment that the German officers and a few
men had left the camp some days before for Abu Zenaima on the coast,
where there was a British-owned manganese mine, which the raiders
damaged as best they could, and then stealing some camels, departed
for the fort at Nakhl.

The failure of the Turks to win any success at that canal, and their
subsequent retreat, had a discouraging influence on the Bedouin
levies, who had joined Djemal Pasha and Hilmi Bey, and they now chose
the first opportunity to vanish with the new rifles that had been
given to them.

For a month the Turks did nothing but keep the British troops occupied
by petty raids and feint attacks, which were worrisome, but better
than utter stagnation.

On March 22, 1915, a Turkish column with guns and cavalry appeared
near the canal near El Kubri, and their advance guard of about 400
encountered a patrol of nine men under Havildar Subha Singh of the
Fifty-sixth Punjab Rifles. The Havildar retired fighting courageously,
holding the enemy back until he had got his men to safety, with a loss
of two killed and three wounded. The Havildar, who was badly wounded
himself, received the Indian Order of Merit and was promoted to
Jemadar. He had inflicted on the enemy a loss of twelve men and
fifteen wounded.

On March 23, 1915, General Sir G. J. Younghusband set out to attack
the Turks who had been under the command of Colonel van Trommer, but
owing to delays they had had time to retreat toward Nakhl. In the
pursuit that followed, their rear guard lost about forty men and some
were taken prisoners. There were about a dozen British casualties.

On April 29, 1915, a raiding party with Maxims attacked a detachment
of Bikanir Camel Corps and Egyptian sappers near Bir Mahadet, which
resulted in the wounding of a British officer, and five killed and
three wounded among the Egyptians and Bikaniris. A punitive expedition
sent out to attack the raiders marched through the night to Bir
Mahadet only to find that the Turks had fled. The British aeroplane
soon after "spotted" the enemy near a well six miles north. The
Patiala cavalry, who were leading, came up with the Turkish rear guard
in the afternoon and charged. The Turks stampeded, except for a small
group of Turkish soldiers led by a plucky Albanian officer, who held
their ground and attacked from the flank the advancing British
officers and Patiala cavalry. Two British officers and a native
officer were killed or badly wounded in the subsequent charge. The
Albanian, who had displayed such courage, proved to be a son of Djemal
Pasha. He fell with seven lance thrusts, none of which however proved
fatal, while all his men were killed or captured. The British had four
or five times as many men as the escaping enemy, but they did not
pursue.

In June, 1915, Colonel von Laufer and a mixed force attempted a feeble
raid on the canal near El Kantara, but were driven off with some loss
by the Yeomanry, who had done effective work in keeping the enemy away
from the British lines. A mine having been found near the canal about
this time, the Porte informed the neutral powers that the canal must
be closed to navigation owing to the arbitrary conduct of the British
in Egypt. But the Turks were not in a position to carry out their
threats, owing to the vigorous attack on the Dardanelles. Troops were
hurried from Syria to Constantinople, and by June 6 less than 25,000
Turkish troops remained in central and southern Syria and the Sinai
Peninsula. At Nakhl and El Arish there were left about 7,000 veteran
desert fighters, but the British air scouts kept a watchful eye on the
desert roads, and used bombs with such effect that the Turks were
kept in a constant state of apprehension by their attacks.

At Sharkieh, the eastern province of the Delta, there had been some
uneasiness when the Turks made their unsuccessful strikes at the
canal, but the population gave no trouble. At Alexandria and Cairo
some few fanatics and ignorant people of the lower classes displayed
some opposition to the Government. The sultan was fired on April 8,
1915, by a degenerate, Mohammed Khalil, a haberdasher of Masoura, the
bullet missing the victim by only a few inches. Khalil was tried by
court-martial and executed April 24. The attempt on Sultan Hussein's
life had the effect of making him friends from among the disaffected
in the higher classes who found it wise policy to express their horror
of the attempted crime, and to proclaim their allegiance to the
Government. On April 9 the sultan received a popular ovation while on
his way to the mosque.

As a base for the allied Mediterranean expeditionary force, and as a
training ground for Australian, Indian, and British troops, Egypt in
1915 was of the utmost military importance to the British Empire. From
the great camps around Cairo and the canal, forces could be dispatched
for service in Europe, Mesopotamia, and at the Dardanelles, while
fresh contingents of soldiers were constantly arriving to take their
places.

On July 5, 1915, a body of Turks and Arabs from Yemen in southwest
Arabia made a threatening demonstration against Aden, the "Gibraltar
of the East," on the Strait of Perim at the entrance to the Red Sea.
They were equipped with some field guns and light artillery, and
crossing the Aden hinterland near Lahej, forced the British to retire
on Aden.

On July 29, 1915, Sheikh Othman, which had been abandoned by the
British on their retreat on the 5th, was again occupied by them, and
the Turks and Arabs were expelled. The British troops drove the enemy
for five miles across the country, causing some casualties, when the
Turks and their allies scattered and disappeared.




PART II--WAR IN THE AIR




CHAPTER II

RAIDS OF THE AIRMEN


The war in the air developed into a reign of terror during the second
half of the first year of the world catastrophe. While the armies on
the land were locked in terrific conflict, and the navies were
sweeping the seas, the huge ships of the air were hovering over cities
with a desperate resolve to win on all sides. By degrees the pilots of
the various nations learned to work in squadrons. The tactics of the
air began to be developed and opposing aerial fleets maneuvered much
as did the warships. Long raids by fifty or more machines were
reported, tons of bombs being released upon cities hundreds of miles
from the battle line.

The German ambition to shell London was realized, and the east coast
of England grew accustomed to raids. The spirit of the British never
faltered. Perhaps it was best typified in the admonition of a Yarmouth
minister following a disastrous Zeppelin visit, who said: "It is our
privilege, we who live on the east coast, to be on the firing line,
and we should steel ourselves to face the position with brave hearts."

Casualties grew in all quarters. French cities were the greatest
sufferers, although French airmen performed prodigies of valor in
defending the capital and in attacks upon German defensive positions.
But the stealthy Zeppelin took heavy toll on many occasions. It was
shown that there was no really adequate defense against sudden attack
from the air. Constant watchfulness and patrolling machines might be
eluded at night and death rained upon the sleeping city beneath.

The spring of 1915 found the air service of every army primed for a
dash. The cold months were spent in repairing, reorganizing and
extending aerial squadrons. Everything awaited the advent of good
weather conditions.

During February, 1915, the hand of tragedy fell upon the German air
service. Two Zeppelins and another large aircraft were wrecked within
a couple of days.

In a storm over the North Sea on February 16, 1915, a Zeppelin fought
heroically. Contrary air currents compelled the Zeppelin commander to
maneuver over a wide zone in an effort to reach land. Caught in the
gale the big dirigible was at the mercy of the elements. Snow, sleet,
and fog enveloped it and added to its peril. The craft caught in the
February storm, fought a losing battle for twenty-four hours and
finally made a landing on Fanoe Island, in Danish territory. The
officers and men were interned, several of whom were suffering from
exposure in an acute form and nearly all of them with frostbitten
hands and feet.

Another Zeppelin was lost in this same February storm. It is presumed
that the two started on a raiding trip against England and were caught
in the storm before reaching their destination. Details of the second
Zeppelin's fate never have been told. It fell into the sea, where
parts of the wreckage were found by Dutch fishermen. All on board lost
their lives. The third airship wrecked that month was of another type
than the Zeppelin. It foundered off the west coast of Jutland and four
of its crew were killed. The others escaped, but the airship was a
total loss.

This trio of accidents shocked the German official world to its depths
and had a chilling effect upon the aerial branch of its military
organization for some weeks. The Zeppelins remained at home until the
return of better weather. England, for a time, was practically freed
from the new menace.

It was not accident alone, nor an adverse fortune, which caused the
loss of the three airships. The position of the British Isles, on the
edge of the Atlantic, enabled British weather forecasters to tell with
almost unfailing exactness when a storm was to be expected. The French
also had an excellent service in this direction. Realizing that bad
weather was the worst foe of the Zeppelin, aside from its own inherent
clumsiness, the two governments agreed to suppress publication of
weather reports, thereby keeping from the Germans information of a
vital character. The German Government maintained a skilled weather
department, but the geographical location of the country is such that
its forecasters could not foretell with the same accuracy the
conditions on the Atlantic. The shrewd step of the French and British
therefore resulted in the destruction of three dirigibles in a single
month, a much higher average than all the efforts of land guns and
aviators had been able to achieve.

February, 1915, was a bleak, drear month. Aviators of all the armies
made daily scouting trips, but wasted little time in attacking each
other. Few raids of importance took place on any of the fronts. But
British airmen descended upon German positions in Belgium on several
occasions. Zeebrugge, Ostend, and Blankenberghe received their
attention in a half dozen visits between February 5 and 20.

On February 16, 1915, a large fleet of aeroplanes, mostly British,
swept along the Flanders coast, attacking defensive positions wherever
sighted. At the same time, French airmen shelled the aeroplane center
at Ghistelles, preventing the Germans from sending a squadron against
the other flotilla.

Paris, Dunkirk, and Calais glimpsed an occasional enemy aeroplane, but
they were bent on watching troop movements and only a few stray bombs
were dropped. The inactivity of the armies, burrowed in their winter
quarters, was reflected in the air.

It was announced by the French Foreign Office that from the beginning
of hostilities up to February 1, 1915, French aircraft had made 10,000
reconnaissances, covering a total of more than 1,250,000 miles. This
represented 18,000 hours spent in the air.

Antwerp, which had surrendered to the Germans, was visited by British
flyers on March 7, 1915. They bombarded the submarine plant at
Hoboken, a suburb. The plant at this point had been quickly developed
by the conquerors and the harbor served as a refuge for many undersea
boats. Numerous attacks on ships off the Dutch mainland persuaded the
British authorities that a blow at Hoboken would be a telling stroke
against German submarines, and so the event proved. Several craft were
sunk or badly damaged. Bombs set fire to the submarine works and much
havoc was wrought among the material stored there. A number of
employees were injured. The Antwerp populace cheered the airmen on
their trip across the city and back to the British lines, for which a
fine was imposed upon the city.

During March, 1915, there was some activity in the East, where
Zeppelins shelled Warsaw in Poland, killing fifty persons and causing
many fires. One of the raiders was brought down on March 18, and her
crew captured. The Russian service suffered losses, Berlin announcing
the capture of six aeroplanes in a single week. One of these was of
the Sikorsky type, a giant battle plane carrying a half dozen men.

Shortly after one o'clock on the morning of March 21, 1915, two
Zeppelins appeared above Paris. Four of the raiders started from the
German lines originally, but two were forced to turn back. They were
first seen above Compiègne, north of which the German lines came
nearest to Paris. The news was flashed ahead. The French airmen rose
to meet them. Two of the Zeppelins eluded the patrol. Their coming was
expected and when they approached the city searchlights picked them up
and kept the raiders in view as they maneuvered above the French
capital. The French defenders and the Zeppelin commanders met in a
bold battle in the air. The Zeppelins kept up a running fight with
pursuing aeroplanes while dropping bombs. They sailed across Mt.
Valérien, one of the most powerful Paris forts, dropping missiles
which did little harm. A searchlight from the Eiffel Tower kept them
in full view. They were forced to move rapidly. Finally they swung in
a big arc toward Versailles, and then turned suddenly and sailed for
the heart of the city. Twenty-five bombs were dropped. Eight persons
were struck and a number of fires started.

The Parisians flocked to the streets and watched the strange combat
with rapt interest. Although the raiders had come before, the
spectacle had not lost its fascination. Even though the authorities
issued strict orders and troops tried to drive the throngs indoors,
Parisians persisted in risking life and limb to see the Zeppelins
battle in the night skies. Upon this occasion the battle aloft lasted
until after four o'clock in the morning, or more than three hours.

On the same night, March 21, 1915, three bombs were thrown upon
Villers-Cotterets, fifteen miles southwest of Soissons. There was
small damage and no casualties. But the two raids emphasized that a
few weeks more would see intensive resumption of war in the air.

French aviators shelled Bazincourt, Briey, Brimont, and Vailly on
March 22, 1915. At Briey, the station was damaged and the railway line
cut, two of the birdmen descending to within a few hundred yards of
the track. Enemy batteries at Brimont suffered damage. The next day a
German machine was shot down near Colmar, in Alsace, and its two
occupants captured.

With the return of spring, 1915, came renewed activity among airmen on
all fronts. The first day of April was marked by the loss of two
German machines, one near Soissons and the other near Rheims. The
first fell a victim to gunfire, both occupants being killed. The
second, an Albatross model, was discovered prowling above Rheims.
French pilots immediately gave chase and after a circuitous flight
back and forth across the city, compelled the enemy machine to land.
The pilot and observer were overpowered before they had time to set it
afire, the usual procedure when captured.

A typical day of this season with the birdmen of France was April 2,
1915. A War Office report of that day tells of forty-three
reconnoitering flights and twenty others for the purpose of attacking
enemy positions or ascertaining the direction of gunfire. Bombs were
dropped upon the hangars and aviation camp at Habsheim. The munition
factories at Dietweiler, and the railway station in Walheim. The
station at Bensdorf and the barracks at the same place were shelled
from the air. Much damage was done.

Seven French aeroplanes flew over the Woevre region on this day,
penetrating as far as Vigneulles, where the aerial observers
discovered barracks covered with heavy corrugated iron. The machines
descended in long spirals and dropped a number of bombs, setting the
barracks afire. Troops were seen rushing in all directions from the
burning structures.

The aviation camp at Coucu-le-Château, north of Soissons, and the
station at Comines, Belgium, were under fire from the air. In
Champagne a quantity of shells were unloosed upon the station at
Somme-Py and Dontrein, near Eacille and St. Etienne-sur-Suippe enemy
bivouacs were bombarded. Other bivouacs at Basancourt and Pont
Faverger were struck by arrows dropped from the skies.

These numerous raids and reconnaissances were repeated every day at
many points. German airmen were not less active than those of the
Allies. Neither side allowed a fine day to pass without watching the
enemy from the air and striking him at such places and times as they
could.

Early on the morning of April 13, 1915, a Zeppelin was discovered
surveying allied gun positions near Ypres, in Belgium. The batteries
immediately opened fire and several shells found their target, judging
from the heavy list which the airship developed. It was seen to be in
serious trouble as it made its escape. Amsterdam reported the
following day that the craft fell near Thielt, a complete wreck. What
became of the crew never was learned.

The raids on England were now resumed. On April 13, 1915, a Zeppelin
visited Newcastle-on-Tyne and several near-by towns. Newcastle, a
great naval station and manufacturing city, had been the objective of
previous air attacks that brought forth little result. The Zeppelin
commander, who directed the bombardment of the thirteenth, was well
informed and proceeded straight to the arsenal and naval workshops.
More than a dozen bombs fell. Strangely enough none of these caused
material loss, and there were no casualties. Dwellings were set afire
in other quarters of the city. The stir that followed brought England
to the realization that better weather was dawning and with it an
imminent peril. Efforts were redoubled to ward off aerial raiders.

A flotilla of Zeppelins shelled Blyth, Wallsend, and South Shields, on
the northeastern coast of England on the night of April 14, 1915. This
attack was directed primarily at the industrial and shipping centers
of Tyneside. Berlin claimed a distinct success, but the British denied
that extensive harm had been done.

French airmen drove home an attack on April 15, 1915, that had
important results. The station at Saint-Quentin was shelled from the
air and upward of 150 freight cars and extensive freight sheds
destroyed. Some of the cars contained benzol, the explosion of which
spread burning liquid in every direction. Adjacent buildings were
consumed by the spreading fire and it seemed that Saint-Quentin itself
might go. Twenty-four German soldiers were killed and the fire burned
from four o'clock in the afternoon until six the next morning, the
explosion of shells being frequently heard. These facts were
communicated to the French by spies and prisoners and thus written
into the war's record.

Lowestoft and Maldon, only thirty miles from London, were the mark of
bombs on the morning of April 16, 1915. The raiders arrived at
Lowestoft about midnight and released three bombs, one of which killed
two horses. A half hour later they appeared over Maldon, where six
bombs were dropped. Several fires broke out. There was a panic when
searchlights revealed one of the raiders still hovering above the
city. But he apparently was merely bent on learning the extent of his
success, as he passed on to Hebridge, two miles away, where a building
was fired by a bursting shell.

Another German squadron of six craft was sighted at Ipswich,
approaching from the direction of the channel. A few fires in Ipswich
and two persons hurt at Southwold were the only evidences of the
visit. This raid was made significant by the fact that the squadron
paid small attention to towns in its route, proceeding to Henham Hall,
residence of the Countess Stradbroke, near Southwold. It then was used
as a hospital for wounded soldiers. A half dozen bombs fell in close
proximity to the main building, but fortunately none of them struck
their mark.

The evening of that day, April 26, 1915, the third raid on England in
less than twenty-four hours took place. Canterbury, Sittingbourne, and
Faversham were shelled, all three towns being within thirty miles of
London. British machines drove the invaders off. About half past one
of the next morning a Zeppelin dropped seven bombs in the
neighborhood of Colchester. It was evident from these frequent
visitations that the German authorities were bent on reaching London
itself. Nearly every raid brought the enemy craft nearer. The gain of
almost a mile was made on each raid. The Germans were wary and
evidently suspected that London's air defenses were adequate. The
small towns which they shelled were of no importance whatever from a
military standpoint, and such casualties as resulted were
insignificant as compared to the death roll that London might be
expected to yield.

A French squadron engaged in a raid of some consequence on April 16,
1915. Leopoldshoehe, east of Rurigue, fell a victim. Workshops, where
shells were made, came in for a heavy aerial bombardment. Fire started
which swept away several buildings. Equipment and supplies were
smashed. Other bombs dropped on a powder magazine at Rothwell caused a
second fire. The electric plant at Maixienes-les-Metz, ten miles north
of Metz, which supplied the city with light and power, was rendered
useless. Munition plants and the station in Metz itself suffered, and
three German aeroplanes guarding the city were compelled to land under
the guns of the fortress when the French squadron turned about. This
dash was a profitable one for the French and showed a new organization
that promised well for the future. Just how many machines took part
was not learned, but there probably were forty or fifty. North of
Ypres French gunners brought down a German aeroplane which fell behind
the enemy's trenches, ablaze from end to end.

The Germans took similar toll. Several of their flyers shelled Amiens
on April 17, 1915, dropping bombs which killed or wounded ten persons
in the vicinity of the cathedral. The invaders sailed up in the night
and descended to a point just above the city before dropping the first
bomb. They were off in a couple of minutes, before pursuing machines
could engage them.

All of these raids were more or less effective. At the time they
attracted wide attention, but as the war wore on the world became
accustomed to aerial attacks. The total of lives lost and the
destruction caused never will be accurately known.

On April 21, 1915, came news of another trip to Warsaw by Zeppelins, a
dozen persons being killed. Bombs fell in the center of the city and
the post-office building was struck. A resumption of activity in that
quarter was productive of raids, clashes in the air and Zeppelin
alarms, such as were common in the western theatre, but on a lesser
scale, as the Russians and Austrians possessed only a limited air
equipment and the Germans were compelled to concentrate the bulk of
their machines elsewhere.

In the southern war zone the aerial operations recommenced with April,
1915. The Austrians made several more or less futile attacks on
Venice. Italian cities, especially Venice, Verona, and others near the
border removed many of their art works to safe places, including
stained-glass windows from cathedrals, canvases, and statuary. The
base of the Campanile, Venice, and other historic edifices were
protected with thousands of sandbags. The famous horses brought from
Constantinople were taken down. This denuding process robbed the
ancient seat of Venetian power of its many splendors, but assured
their preservation and future restoration.

The Austrian bombs started numerous fires, tore up a few streets, and
caused some casualties. In turn, the Italians dashed across the
Austrian lines and attacked supply bases, railway stations, and other
vantage points in the same way that the Allies were harrowing the
Germans on the western front. In this work the Italians made use to
some extent of their dirigibles, a type smaller than the Zeppelin but
highly efficient.

Thirty persons were killed or wounded in Calais on April 26, 1915,
when a Zeppelin succeeded in reaching a point above one of the thickly
populated sections of the city. The raid took place before midnight.
The visitor was quickly driven away by a French machine, but not until
the damage had been done. An orphanage was among the buildings struck,
many of the victims being children. A fleet of aeroplanes visited
Amiens at about the same hour, their efforts being directed to the
bombardment of ammunition depots near that city. The invaders were
driven off with small results to show for their work.

In a raid on April 28, 1915, upon Friedrichshafen, so often the mark
of airmen, several airship sheds and a Zeppelin were damaged. A nearly
simultaneous bombardment of Leopoldshoehe, Lörrach, and the station at
Haltinge resulted in the destruction of train sheds and two
locomotives. Forty-two members of the Landsturm were killed or wounded
at Lörrach and two aeroplanes put out of commission, service being cut
on the railway line. This was the official French version. Geneva gave
a different and more vivid account. According to the Swiss, the French
airmen visited Friedrichshafen twice within thirty-six hours,
destroying five airships, setting fire to several buildings, and
causing at least $1,000,000 damage. The report said that they returned
by way of Metz, dropping arrows and bombs, and wrecking the station at
Lörrach.

The east coast of England was the victim of an air raid on April 30,
1915. Hostile aircraft were sighted over Ipswich, about sixty-five
miles from London, shortly after midnight. The alarm was spread
westward, whence the craft were bound. Five bombs fell upon Ipswich,
but no one was killed. A few dwellings and commercial buildings were
struck, fires starting which the local department soon controlled.
Only a few minutes after the machines shelled Ipswich, they were seen
to approach Bury St. Edmunds, fourteen miles to the northwest of
Ipswich. Three bombs failed to produce casualties, but fires were
started. Little damage resulted.

On the first day of May, 1915, announcement was made in Paris that
experiments conducted at Issy les Molineaux over several months had
brought about successful tests in firing a three-inch gun from an
aeroplane. This had never been accomplished before, and had seemed a
well-nigh impossible task. An entirely new piece was developed, firing
a shell of about the same size as the regular 75-millimeter field gun.
It was made lighter by half, with an effective range of 2,500 meters,
considerably less than the standard gun.

French skill in designing weapons, always a trait of the race, was
evidenced here. The heavy steel breechblock of the seventy-five was
replaced by a wooden block. When fired the explosion of the powder
charge automatically blew the wooden breechblock backward, thus
neutralizing the shock. But owing to the open breech much of the
powder's driving force was lost. Nothing to equal the new arm had
there been up to that time. The wooden breechblock completely did away
with the heavy hydraulic recoil cylinders which were one of the
distinguishing features of the seventy-five. These cylinders were
esteemed by many authorities to be the finest in the world, absorbing
maximum shock with a minimum of effort.

The coming of this new gun marked a big step forward in aerial war and
gave the French machines so equipped a decided advantage. Its effect
was to make the German flyers more wary, avoiding combat except when
impossible to avoid the issue. But its use was confined to the larger
machines as a rule, particularly the Voisin biplane, the machine gun
being favored by many airmen because of its lightness and the ease
with which it could be handled.

The beginning of May, 1915, found aerial warfare in full progress again.
The British defense squadrons showed somewhat better generalship and it
was not until the tenth of the month that Zeppelins obtained any
appreciable advantage in that quarter. But two of the raiders evaded the
patrols on the night of May 10, 1915, and dropped bombs upon
Westcliff-on-Sea, near Southend, at the mouth of the Thames, a bare
twenty-five miles from London. There were no fatalities, but a man and
his wife were badly burned when their home caught fire from a bursting
bomb. At Leigh, near Southend, several shops were burned. It was
reported that four Zeppelins had been seen at Leigh, whereas
Westcliff-on-Sea saw but two. If the larger number were correct it would
indicate that the Germans were becoming more determined to reach London.
One feature of the raid at Westcliff-on-Sea was that of sixty bombs
dropped only a few struck in the town. Most of them fell on the beach
and the sand neutralized any effects that the missiles might have had.

The Bull and George Hotel at Ramsgate was completely wrecked by bombs
which struck it on the night of May 17, 1915. An instance of the
vagaries of explosives was furnished by this raid. One of the bombs
which struck the hotel penetrated the roof and fell upon a bed on
which a woman was sleeping. It wrecked the room and tore a great hole
in the floor through which the bed and occupant fell to the cellar.
The sleeper was badly hurt and the bed practically uninjured. Fires
started by other bombs in Ramsgate soon were extinguished.

Advices from Rotterdam stated that during this raid a Zeppelin fell
into the Gierlesche Woods, Belgium, two men being hurt. The cause of
the airship's plight was unknown, but the damage made it necessary
that the frame be taken apart and sent to Germany for repairs.

One of the oddest combats of the war was staged on this day--May 17,
1915. A Zeppelin, flying from the direction of the English coast, was
sighted in the channel by a French torpedo boat. The craft was at a
comparatively low altitude and furnished an excellent mark. Only a few
shots had been fired when it was seen to be in distress. The Zeppelin
made several frantic efforts to rise, then fell into the sea within
four miles of Gravelines. It sank before aid could be given the crew.

May 17, 1915, was a bad day for Zeppelins. One of the dirigibles
supposed to have attacked Ramsgate early that morning was discovered
off Nieuport, Belgium, by a squadron of eight British naval machines
which had made a sortie from Dunkirk. They surrounded the enemy craft
and three of the pilots succeeded in approaching close to the
Zeppelin. Four bombs were dropped upon the airship from a height of
200 feet. A column of smoke arose. The Zeppelin looked as though it
would fall for a moment, but righted itself and mounted to an altitude
of some 11,000 feet, finally eluding its pursuers.

Two Zeppelins and two Taubes were caught by daylight after a
frustrated raid upon Calais on May 18, 1915. They were fired upon from
many points. A battery at Gris Nez succeeded in hitting one of the
dirigibles. The other craft of the flotilla stood by their injured
fellow as long as they dared, but made off after a few minutes, as
French machines were closing in from all sides. The injured Zeppelin
dropped on the beach near Fort Mardick, about two miles from Dunkirk.
Forty men aboard were taken prisoners, including several officers.

Two women in Southend, England, met death on May 27, 1915, when
Zeppelins visited that city. A child was badly injured. The lighting
plant and several industrial establishments suffered damage. Repeated
attacks on Southend had resulted in the installation of searchlights
and the detailing of more aviators to guard its citizens. Neither
availed to prevent the loss of life, but they did succeed in driving
away the raiders after their first appearance.

Of all the raids carried out during the spring and summer of 1915, one
of the most important was that upon Ludwigshafen, in Bavaria. Here the
laboratories of the Badische Anilin und Soda Fabrik were located. This
plant was said to produce two-thirds of the nitrates used in the
production of ammunition for the German armies. Since the start of the
war it had been the object of several attacks, none of which had
noteworthy results.

But on the morning of May 26, 1915, eighteen French aeroplanes started
at daybreak from a border stronghold and headed straight for
Ludwigshafen. They had a supply of gasoline to last seven hours and
rose to a height of 6,500 feet in order to escape detection. In this
they did not succeed, but ran into several lively cannonades before
reaching their destination. Once there, they circled above the big
chemical works, dropping bomb after bomb. More than a ton of
explosives were hurled upon the buildings in a quarter of an hour.
Columns of smoke rose from the burning structures. Loud explosions
issued from the smokestacks, sounding like the report of heavy guns.
Workmen fled in all directions and the whole plant soon was wrapped in
flames. The airmen lingered about for a short time, watching the
results of their work. It became evident that the plant would be a
total loss, and the flames spread to near-by buildings, for a time
threatening a good part of the city.

Swiss reports of a few days later said that upward of a hundred
workmen lost their lives, that scores were hurt and the property loss
ran well into the millions. The blow was severe, the heaviest up to
that time which German industries, far from the battle front, had
sustained. It revealed a new chapter of war in the air to communities
which would be snugly secure under any other condition. On the return
trip, ill fortune overtook the French flotilla. The machine of its
commander found it necessary to make a landing. Chief of Squadron, De
Goys, and Adjutant Bunau-Varilla were captured. They burned their
aeroplane before being taken prisoners.




CHAPTER III

ZEPPELINS ATTACK LONDON--BATTLES IN THE AIR


England's insularity disappeared on the night of May 31, 1915. The
isolation by sea which had kept her immune from attack since the days
of the Normans failed to save London from the Zeppelin. After ten
months of war the British capital looked upon its dead for the first
time. Four children, one woman, and one man were killed. An old apple
woman died of fright. There were numerous fires, only three of which
assumed serious proportions and these were extinguished by the fire
department after a few hours.

London's initial glimpse of a Zeppelin was obtained about 11.30 p. m.,
when the theatre section was filled with homeward bound throngs. The
lights attracted the raiders to this district, where a half dozen
bombs were dropped. No sooner had the first of the missiles fallen
than antiaircraft guns began to open a bombardment from many
directions. Searchlights mounted at advantageous points threw their
narrow pencils of light into the skies. The people in different
sections of the city caught a fleeting glance of a huge airship that
floated sullenly along, like some bird of prey from out of the past--a
new pterodactyl that instead of seizing its victims dropped death upon
them.

One shell fell in Trafalgar Square. The Zeppelins passed over the
Houses of Parliament, Westminster, and other famous buildings, but
apparently did not have their location well in mind as these noted
monuments escaped harm.

But the Zeppelins had come. And they left scars which greeted
Londoners the following morning to prove that the raid was not a bad
dream which would disappear with the morning mists. In addition to the
four persons killed, seventy others were injured, some of whom
suffered the loss of limbs and other injuries that incapacitated them.
Immediately there was a cry for revenge. Some of the newspapers
advocated reprisals upon German cities. This the government refused to
do and steadfastly adhered to a policy of war upon fortified places
and armed men alone. Rioting took place in many districts where
Germans were numerous. Shops and homes were looted. Every German who
appeared in the streets, or any person who looked like one, was liable
to attack. A number of aliens were badly handled. The public declared
a spontaneous boycott upon every person having a name that seemed to
be of German origin. There was a united movement to obtain some
reparation for the Zeppelin raids. But the results were only trifling
and the indignation died down with the passing days, British calmness
soon succeeding the excitement of a moment.

Italian frontier towns became the goal of Austrian airmen on June 1,
1915. A half dozen persons were killed or injured and there was some
property damaged. With warm weather and good flying conditions raids
were in order every day.

On June 3, 1915, British aviators made a successful attack upon German
airship sheds at Evere, Belgium. The same day French machines
bombarded the headquarters of the crown prince in the Argonne, with
what results never was definitely established, although there were
reports that several high officers had been killed.

It was made known in London on June 3, 1915, that Great Britain and
Germany had agreed to a plan for the protection of public buildings
from air raids. According to this agreement hospitals, churches,
museums, and similar buildings were to have large white crosses marked
upon their roofs. Both governments pledged themselves to respect these
crosses. Much importance was attached to the idea at the time, but
its effects were disappointing. The marks either were not readily
perceivable from an aeroplane or the pilots did not trouble themselves
too much about the crosses. Public buildings continued to suffer.

On the night of June 4, 1915, German dirigibles attacked towns at the
mouth of the Humber, the port and shipping of Hardwich, in England.
There were some casualties and considerable property loss, but the
British Government would not make public the extent of the damage as
the places attacked were of naval importance. Calais, on the French
coast was raided the next day by two German airmen. There was one
casualty. England's east coast was visited by Zeppelins on the night
of June 6, 1915, twenty-four persons being killed and forty hurt.
There was much damage, all details of which were suppressed.

Just after the break of day on June 7, 1915, a British monoplane was
returning from a scouting trip over Belgium. At the same hour a
Zeppelin flew homeward from the English coast. The two met between
Ghent and Brussels. Four persons had been killed and forty injured
during the night at Yarmouth and other near-by towns on the East
channel coast. Raids had been frequent of late and the British pilot
sensed the fact that this Zeppelin was one of the dreaded visitors. He
was several miles away when the big aircraft hove into view. Uncertain
for a few minutes how to proceed, he rose until he was two thousand
feet above the Zeppelin. His maneuver was not appreciated at first, or
the Zeppelin crew did not see him. There was no attempt either to flee
or give battle.

But as the monoplane drew nearer it was sighted and a combat followed
such as never was seen before. Sub-Lieutenant R. A. J. Warneford, a
young Canadian who had not reached twenty-one years of age, matched
his pygmy machine against the great aerial dreadnought. The fight
started at a height of 6,000 feet. Lieutenant Warneford released his
first bomb when about 1,000 feet above the Zeppelin. He saw it strike
the airbag and disappear, followed by a puff of smoke. Because of the
sectional arrangement this did not disable the airship. The
Lieutenant circled off and again approached the Zeppelin. Every gun
was trained upon him that could be brought to bear. The wings of his
machine were shattered many times, but he kept on fighting. When once
more above the enemy craft, he released another bomb. It also struck
the Zeppelin, but appeared to glance off.

The antagonists resorted to every conceivable ruse, one to escape, the
other to bring down its quarry. All efforts of the Zeppelin commander
to reach the height of his antagonist were defeated. His lone enemy
kept above him. The battle varied from an altitude of 6,000 to 10,000
feet. Three other bombs struck the airship, and each time there was
the telltale wisp of smoke.

The Zeppelin was mortally injured. Her commander turned to earth for
refuge. Seeing this, Lieutenant Warneford came nearer. He had but one
bomb left. Descending to within a few hundred feet of the airship,
while its machine guns played upon him, he released this remaining
bomb. It struck the Zeppelin amidship. There was a flash, a roar, and
a great burst of smoke as the vanquished craft exploded and plunged
nose downward. The rush of air caused by the explosion upset the
equilibrium of the victorious machine, which dropped toward the ground
and turned completely over before its pilot could regain control. The
presence of mind which he showed at this juncture, was one of the most
remarkable features of this remarkable conflict.

The young Canadian pilot righted his machine in time to see the
Zeppelin end its career. Like a flaming comet it fell upon the convent
of Le Grand Beguinage de Sainte Elizabeth, located in Mont Saint
Amand, a suburb of Ghent. This convent was used as an orphanage. The
burning airship set fire to several buildings, causing the death of
two sisters and two children. The twenty-eight men aboard were killed.
Accounts from Amsterdam a day or two later gave a vivid description of
the charred remnants of the machine, the burned convent buildings, and
the victims all piled together.

Lieutenant Warneford saw the Zeppelin fall and knew that its raiding
days were over. Then he discovered that his own machine was in
trouble. In another moment he realized the impossibility of returning
to the British lines, and was compelled to volplane toward earth,
cutting off his driving power. Descending in a soft field, he found
that his motor was out of order. Thirty precious minutes were spent
repairing the damage. It took him as long again to get his machine
started, a task not often accomplished by one man. But he sailed
serenely home and brought the news of his strange victory.

Within twenty-four hours Lieutenant Warneford was the hero of the
world. His name and achievement had been flashed to the four corners
of the earth. Every newspaper rang with acclaim for the boyish aviator
who had shown that one man of skill and daring was a match for the
huge Zeppelin. It was the old story of David and Goliath, of the Roman
youth who bested the Gaul, of Drake's improvised fleet against the
Armada. The lieutenant was called to London and presented with the
Victoria Cross by King George, who thanked him in the name of the
British Empire for adding another laurel to the long list of its
honors. A day or two later President Poincaré received him in Paris
and pinned the Legion of Honor cross upon his breast.

But this same week saw the climax of this war romance--a tragic ending
to a war epic. Lieutenant Warneford was practicing with a new French
machine at Versailles. He either lost control or the motor failed him.
It dropped to earth, killing the pilot and an American newspaper
correspondent who was in the observer's seat. This sudden end to a
career so brilliant, the cutting off of a future so promising, cast a
pall over the minds of both the French and British airmen. The body of
Lieutenant Warneford lay in state at the French capital and afterward
in London, where every honor was shown his memory.




CHAPTER IV

VENICE ATTACKED--OTHER RAIDS


British airmen visited Ghent on June 8, 1915, where several ammunition
depots were fired. The railway station was hit and a number of German
troops in a train standing there killed or hurt.

On June 9, 1915, Venice was shelled by Austrian aviators, bombs
falling near St. Mark's and setting a number of fires. There were no
casualties as far as known.

An Italian airship squadron raided Pola, the principal Austrian naval
base, on June 14, 1915. Pola has one of the best harbors on the
Adriatic and is an exceptionally strong position. It was from there
that Austrian warships and aircraft made their attacks upon Italian
and other allied shipping. The city had a big arsenal and
miscellaneous war plants. The arsenal was struck by some of the bombs
dropped during this raid, shipping in the harbor was bombarded, and
one warship badly damaged. This was perhaps the most valuable
accomplishment of the Italian air service in offensive actions up to
that time. Contrary to what might be expected from the Latin
temperament, Italy had confined herself to the use of aircraft for
scouting purposes almost exclusively. The campaign in Tripoli had
taught her their value, and she had not shown a disposition to bombard
Austrian cities in reply to attacks upon her own people.

The visit of the Zeppelins to London had aroused not only the ire of
Britain, but that of her French allies. It was decided to take
reprisals. Forty-five French machines left the eastern border during
the night of June 15, 1915, and set their journey toward Karlsruhe.
Some of the craft were large battle planes; all of them had speed and
carrying capacity. Approaching Karlsruhe they at first were taken for
German machines, by reason of the location of Karlsruhe far from the
front.

The squadron divided and approached the city from a half dozen
different directions, dripping bombs as they came. One of the largest
chemical plants in Germany was set afire and burned to the ground.
Both wings of the Margrave's Palace were struck and one of them
practically ruined. In the opposite wing, which escaped with only
slight damage, the Queen of Sweden, who is a German by birth, was
sleeping. She was said to have missed death only by a few inches.
Other titled persons in the palace had narrow escapes. A collection of
art works was ruined. Despite the fire of antiaircraft guns the French
machines hovered above the city and dropped bombs at will, again
proving that there was no sufficient protection against air attacks
except by flotillas of equal force.

Within a half hour flames started in many sections of the city. The
chemical and other plants were burned. Karlsruhe's citizens were made
to realize the losses which German airmen had inflicted upon the
noncombatants of other countries. According to the best advices 112
persons were killed and upward of 300 wounded. The maximum number
admitted by the Germans to have been injured was 19 killed and 14
wounded. But persons arriving in Geneva, for weeks after the raid,
told of the wholesale destruction and large casualties. The victims
were buried with honors, and the German Government issued a statement
deploring the "senseless" attack. This was one of the few raids made
by aviators of the allied powers in which the lives of noncombatants
were lost. That it was a warning and not an adopted policy is
indicated by the fact that it was not followed up with other raids.

Zeppelins were seen off the east coast of England about midnight on
June 16, 1915. They left in their wake one of the longest casualty
lists resulting from aerial raids upon England up to that time. South
Shields was the principal sufferer. Sixteen persons were killed and
forty injured. The Zeppelins devoted their attention to the big
Armstrong works principally. Guns and munitions of almost every
description were being made there, and the raid was planned to wreck
the establishment. This attempt was partially successful, but the
buildings destroyed soon were replaced and operations at the plant
never ceased. The extent of the damage was kept secret, but the number
of victims again caused indignation throughout the British Empire.

One result of this raid was a demand in the House of Commons on June
24, 1915, that the public be informed as to defense measures against
air raids. The Government had evaded the question at every
opportunity, and up to that time kept discussion of the subject down
to the minimum. But on this occasion the Commons were not to be easily
disposed of, and insisted upon an answer. This was promised for a
future day, but Home Secretary Brace announced that 24 men, 21 women,
and 11 children had died as a result of attacks from the air since the
war began. He said that 86 men, 35 women, and 17 children had been
wounded. Of these a percentage died later. The secretary intimated
that the Government was keeping a record of every pound's worth of
damage and every person injured, with the expectation of making
Germany reimburse.

The South Shields attack led to further expansion of the air service
and redoubled measures to check the raiders. It seems likely that not
a few aircraft have been captured about which the British Government
made no report. What the motives for this secrecy are it would be hard
to decide. But a guess may be hazarded that, as in the case of certain
submarine crews, it is intended to charge some aviators and Zeppelin
crews with murder after the war is over, and try them by due process
of law. For a time the Government kept a number of men taken from
submarines, known to have caused the loss of noncombatant lives, in
close confinement. Germany retaliated upon army officers, and the
British were compelled to retire from their position. It has been
hinted that in the case of the Zeppelin raiders she had quietly locked
up a number of them without announcing her purpose to the world.

The closing days of June, 1915, brought two raids on Paris. Taubes in
one instance, and Zeppelins in another were held up by the air patrol
and driven back, a few bombs being dropped on Saint Cloud. The work of
the Paris defense forces was notably good during the summer of 1915,
countless incursions being halted before the capital was reached.

What may have been intended as a raid equal to the Cuxhaven attack was
attempted on July 4, 1915, but was foiled by the watchfulness of the
Germans. Cruisers and destroyers approached German positions on an
unnamed bay of the North Sea, and a squadron of British seaplanes rose
from the vessels. German airmen promptly went aloft and drove off the
invaders. The set-to took place near the island of Terschelling off
the Netherlands. When convinced that the Germans were fully ready to
meet them the British turned back and put out to the open sea. It was
intimated from Berlin that a considerable naval force had been engaged
on the British side. There was a good deal of mystery about the
incident.

Perhaps the most important accomplishment of the British flying men
during July, 1915, as concerns actual fighting, was the destruction of
three Taubes at the mouth of the Thames. The invaders were sighted
while still at sea and the word wirelessed ahead. Four British
machines mounted to give battle, and after a stirring contest above
the city brought down two of the Taubes. They were hit in midair, and
one of them caught fire. The burning machine dropping headlong to
earth furnished a spectacle that the watchers are not likely to
forget. The third Taube was winged after a long flight seaward and
sank beneath the waves, carrying down both occupants. This contest
took place July 20, 1915, and followed several visits to England by
Zeppelins, none of which had important results.

On July 21, 1915, French aviators made three conspicuous raids. A
squadron of six machines descended upon Colmar in Alsace, dropping
ninety-one shells upon the passenger and freight stations. Both broke
into flames, and the former was almost wholly destroyed, tying up
traffic on the line, the object of all attacks upon railroad stations,
except at such times as troops were concentrated there or trains were
standing on the tracks ready to load or unload soldiers.

The second raid of this day was especially interesting, because a
dirigible and not an aeroplane was employed, the French seldom using
the big craft so much favored by the Germans. Vigneulles and the
Hatton Chattel in the St. Mihiel salient were the objectives of the
dirigible. A munition depot and the Vigneulles station were shelled
successfully. The third air attack was made upon Challerange, near
Vouziers, by four French aeroplanes. Forty-eight bombs were dropped on
the station there, a junction point and one of the German lesser
supply bases. The damage was reported to have halted reenforcements
for a position near-by where the French took a trench section on this
same day. Accepting the report as true, it exemplifies the unison of
army units striving for the same purpose by remarkably different
methods and weapons.

The French kept busy during this month of July, 1915, with raids upon
Metz and intermediate positions. Metz is the first objective of what
the French hope will be a march to the Rhine, and since the start of
the war the Germans there have had no rest.

On July 28, 1915, Nancy was visited by a flock of Zeppelins and a
number of bombs dropped which did considerable damage in that
war-scarred city. Eleven or twelve persons were killed.

During the night of July 29-30, 1915, a French aviator shelled a plant
in Dornach, Alsace, where asphyxiating gas was being made. Several of
his bombs went home and a tremendous explosion took place that almost
wrecked the machine. But the driver returned safely. An air squadron
also visited Freiburg, so often the target of airmen, and released
bombs upon the railway station.

French airmen were extremely active on July 29, 1915. One flotilla
bombarded the railroad between Ypres and Roulers, near Passchendaele,
tearing up the track for several hundred yards. German bivouacs in the
region of Longueval, west of Combles, also were shelled from the air,
and German organizations on the Brimont Hill, near Rheims, served as
targets for French birdmen. A military station on the railway at
Chattel was shelled, and the station at Burthecourt in Lorraine
damaged. Forty-five French machines dropped 103 bombs on munition
factories and adjoining buildings at Pechelbronn, near Wissemburg.




PART III--THE WESTERN FRONT




CHAPTER V

SUMMARY OF FIRST YEAR'S OPERATIONS


The first anniversary of the war on the western front fell on August
2, 1915. It was on Tuesday, July 28, of the previous year that Count
Berchtold, the Austro-Hungarian Foreign Minister, had pressed the
button in "the powder magazine of Europe"--the Balkans--by declaring
war on Serbia.

For two days the world looked on in breathless, wondering suspense.
Then, like a series of titanic thunderbolts hurled in quick
succession, mighty events shaped themselves with a violence and a
rapidity that staggered the imagination.

On July 31, 1914, "a state of war" was proclaimed in Germany; the next
day (August 1) that country declared war on Russia; on August 2, 1914,
Germany delivered her ultimatum to Belgium and invaded both France and
Luxemburg, following up these acts with a declaration of war against
France on the 3d of the same month.

Before the sun had risen and set again there came the climax to that
most sensational week: Great Britain had thrown her weight into the
scales against the Teutonic Powers. This occurred on August 4, 1914,
the same day that the German frontier force under General von Emmich
came into contact with the Belgian pickets before Liege.

After thirty-six hours of fighting the southern forts were captured
and the city fell into German hands on August 7, 1914. It was not
until the 15th, however, that General Leman, the Belgian commander,
was conquered in his last stronghold, the northern fort of Loncin.
When that fell, the railway system of the Belgian plains lay open to
the invaders. Leman's determined stand had delayed the German advance
for at least a week, and afforded an extremely valuable respite for
the unprepared French and British armies.

The first drafts of the British Expeditionary Force landed in France
on August 16, 1914. On August 7, 1914, a French brigade from Belfort
had crossed the frontier into Alsace and taken the towns of Altkirch
and Mülhausen, which, however, they were unable to hold for more than
three days. Between August 7 and August 15, 1914, large bodies of
German cavalry with infantry supports crossed the Meuse between Liege
and the Dutch frontier, acting as a screen for the main advance. The
Belgian army, concentrated on the Dyle, scored some successes against
the Germans at Haelen, Tirlemont, and Engherzee on the 12th and 13th,
but after the fall of Fort Loncin the German advance guards fell back
and the main German right under Von Kluck advanced toward Brussels. On
the 19th the Belgians began to withdraw to the fortress of Antwerp.
Brussels fell to the Germans on the 20th. Von Kluck turned toward the
Sambre and Von Bülow advanced along the Meuse to Namur. On the
opposite bank (the right) of the Meuse the Saxon army of Von Hausen
moved against Namur and Dinant, while farther south the German Crown
Prince and the Duke of Württemberg pushed their forces toward the
French frontier. Meanwhile, General de Castelnau, commanding the
French right, had seized most of the passes of the Vosges, overrun
upper Alsace almost to the Rhine, and had reached Saarburg on the
Metz-Strassburg railway. On August 20, 1914, the Germans attacked
Namur, captured it on the 23d, and demolished the last forts on the
24th. This unexpected event placed the Allies in an extremely critical
situation, which led to serious reverses. The British force on the
left was in danger of being enveloped in Von Kluck's wheeling
movement; the fall of Namur had turned the flank of the Fourth and
Fifth French armies; the latter was defeated by Von Bülow at Charleroi
on the 22d; the pressure exerted by the armies of the Duke of
Württemberg and the crown prince also contributed to render inevitable
an immediate retirement of the allied right and center. The French
army that had invaded Lorraine--a grave strategical blunder--had also
come to grief. The Bavarians from Metz had broken its left wing on the
20th and driven it back over the frontier. De Castelnau was fighting
desperately for Nancy on a long front from Pont-à-Mousson down to St.
Dié. On the 24th the British line fell back to the vicinity of
Maubeuge, where Von Kluck attempted to close it in. Sir John French
frustrated the plan by further retiring to a line running through Le
Cateau and Landrecies, August 25, 1914. After a violent holding battle
during two days the whole British front had fallen back to St. Quentin
and the upper valley of the Oise.

It was General Joffre's plan to retreat to a position south of the
Marne, where his reserves would be available, a movement which was
successfully carried out by all parts of the allied line during the
following week. By September 5, 1914, this line extended from the
southeast of Paris, along the southern tributaries of the Marne,
across the Champagne to a point south of Verdun. Beyond that, De
Castelnau was still holding the heights in front of Nancy. The
powerful German advance had forced the Allies back some hundred and
thirty miles, almost to the shelter of the Paris fortifications. It
seemed only a matter of hours to the fall of Paris when General Joffre
began his counteroffensive on September 6, 1914. Attempting to pierce
and envelop the allied left center, Von Kluck marched across the front
of the British to strike at the Fifth French Army commanded by General
d'Espérey, who had replaced Lanrezac after the Charleroi defeat. But
the turn of the tide was at hand. The Sixth French Army from Paris,
under General Manoury, fiercely attacked Von Kluck's rear guards on
the Ourcq; Sir John French drove against the right of the main German
advance; the Fifth and Ninth French armies held the front of Von Kluck
and Von Bülow; the Fourth French Army south of Vitry resisted the
piercing movement of the Duke of Württemberg, and the Third French
Army (General Sarrail) checked the crown prince at Verdun, while De
Castelnau at Nancy entered upon the final stage of the battle of
Lorraine. The first great German offensive had failed in its purpose.
By September 12, 1914, the whole German front was retreating
northward. The Aisne plateau, where the Germans came to a halt, is
considered one of the strongest defensive positions in Europe, and
General Joffre soon realized that it could not be taken by direct
assault. He therefore attempted to envelop the German right and
extended his left wing--with a new army--up the valley of the Oise.
Some desperate German counterattacks were met at Rheims and south of
Verdun, but they achieved small success beyond creating a sharp
salient in their line at St. Mihiel, where the invaders managed to
cross the Meuse, General Sarrail defended Verdun with a field army in
a wide circle of intrenchments, with the result that the crown prince
was unable to bring the great howitzers within range of the fortress,
and his army suffered a severe defeat in the Argonne.

The allied stand on the Marne and the resultant battle not only
checked the German avalanche and saved Paris, but dislocated the
fundamental principle of the whole German plan of campaign--to crush
France speedily with one mighty blow and then deal with Russia.

On September 3, 1914, the Russians had already captured Lemberg--two
days before the allied retreat from Mons came to a sudden halt on the
Marne. On that same day, too, the French Government had been removed
from Paris to Bordeaux in anticipation of the worst. Having secured
the capital against immediate danger, General Joffre now began to
extend his line for a great enveloping movement against the German
right. He placed the new Tenth Army under Maud'huy north of De
Castelnau's force, reaching almost to the Belgian frontier. The small
British army under Sir John French moved north of that, and the new
Eighth French Army, under General d'Urbal, was intended to fill the
gap to the Channel. With remarkable flexibility the Germans initiated
the movement with their right as fast as the French extended their
left, and the whole strategy of both sides developed into a feverish
race for the northern shore. Before General d'Urbal could reach his
appointed sector, however, that "gap" had been filled by the remnants
of the Belgian army, liberated after the fall of Antwerp on October
9, 1914. By a narrow margin the Allies had won the race, but were
unable to carry out the intended offensive. Desperate conflicts raged
for a month, but they succeeded in holding the gate to the Channel
ports. The first battle of Ypres-Armentières opened on October 11,
1914, when the Germans attacked simultaneously at Ypres, Armentières,
Arras, and La Bassée. As a victory at either of the two last-named
places would have amply sufficed for the German purpose, this fourfold
attack appears to be a rather curious division of energy. The passages
at Arras and La Bassée were held by General Maud'huy and General
Smith-Dorrien respectively. The former defended his position for the
first three weeks in October when the German attacks weakened; the
latter, with the British Second Corps, had reached the farthest point
in the La Bassée position by October 19, 1914. Violent fighting
occurred round this sector during the latter part of October, and,
though compelled to yield ground occasionally, the British force
prevented any serious German advance. In the early stage of the
struggle the Belgian army and a brigade of French marines held the
Yser line. A British squadron, operating from the Channel, broke the
attack of the German right, and during the last week of October the
Belgians held the middle crossings, with the assistance of part of the
French Eighth Army. All immediate danger was removed from this section
by October 31, 1914, after the Belgians had flooded the country and
driven the Württembergers back at Ramscapelle.

Returning to Ypres, we have stated that the Germans attacked four
different points in this region, on October 11, 1914. By the 20th,
however, it became apparent that their main objective was the Ypres
salient--neither the best nor the easiest route to the sea. What,
then, was the motive underlying this particular phase of the German
strategic plan? It would be pure presumption--taking that word at its
worst meaning--to criticize the deep, long-headed calculations of the
German war staff. A reason--and a good reason--there must have been.
What the historian cannot explain he may, perhaps, be permitted to
speculate upon in order to arrive at some working hypothesis. Hence,
would it be considered an extravagant flight of fancy to assume that
the German decision was influenced by the very simple fact that the
British Expeditionary Force was concentrated in and around Ypres?
Skillful stage management is useful even in the grim drama of war, and
the defeat or elimination of the British forces in the first great
battle of the war would indeed have produced a most sensational effect
with almost incalculable results. Be that as it may, the first battle
of Ypres has already been accorded its position in the British
calendar as "the greatest fight in the history of our army." There is
yet another distinction that battle can claim: it was the first mighty
collision between Anglo-Saxon and Teuton in the history of mankind.
They had fought shoulder to shoulder in the past--never face to face.
French troops also took part in the battle; they consisted of
territorials, some cavalry, and Dubois's Ninth Corps; but the heaviest
blows were delivered with whole-hearted force and energy upon the
British line. This remarkable fight lasted nearly a month. During its
progress the Allies withstood some half a million German troops with a
force that never exceeded 150,000 in number.

Before the last thunderous echoes of Ypres had melted away in space,
dreary winter spread its mantle over the combatants with impartial
severity. During the next three months the opposing forces settled
down and heavily intrenched themselves and then began that warfare at
present familiar to the world, resembling huge siege operations. The
Allies were fighting for time--the Germans against it. The allied
commanders aimed at wearing down the man-power of the enemy by a
series of indecisive actions in which his losses should be
disproportionally greater than their own.

The most important events of the winter campaign were the fight near
La Bassée in December, 1914, where the British Indian Corps
distinguished itself; the fighting at Givenchy in January and
February, 1915; the battle at Soissons in January, 1915, where the
French lost some ground; the long struggle in northern Champagne
during February and March, 1915, where the French first made use of
artillery on a grand scale; and some considerable actions in the
neighborhood of Pont-à-Mousson and the southeast valleys of the
Vosges.

In March, 1915, the Allies began what has been described as a
tentative offensive. Between March 10 and March 12, 1915, the British
advanced about a mile on a front of three miles at Neuve Chapelle, but
the aim of the operations, which were directed against Lille, could
not be achieved. Early in April the French carried the heights of Les
Eparges, which commanded the main communications of the Woevre, an
action that led to a general belief that the Allies' summer offensive
would be aimed at Metz. But the plan--if it ever was entertained--was
abandoned toward the end of April, 1915, when the critical situation
of the Russians in Galicia made it imperative to create a diversion in
another area, where the effects would be more quickly felt. Before the
French attack could mature, however, the second battle of Ypres was
developing.

The Germans began shelling Ypres on April 20, 1915, to prevent
reenforcements from entering the salient, and in the evening of April
22, 1915, they made their first attack with poisonous gas. A French
division lying between the canal and the Pilken road had the first
experience of this new horror added to the methods of warfare. Much
has been written in condemnation of employing poisonous gas, and the
practice has been widely discussed from the "moral" and "humane" point
of view. The Germans claim that the French used it first--a contention
not supported by evidence. "On the general moral question," says Mr.
John Buchan, the well-known English writer on military subjects, "it
is foolish to dogmatize." He points out that all war is barbarous in
essence, and that a man who died in torture from the effects of poison
gas might have suffered equal agony from a shrapnel wound. Hence he
draws the conclusion that the German innovation, if not particularly
more barbarous than other weapons, was at least impolitic, since its
employment raised a storm of indignation and exasperated the feelings
of Germany's enemies. Be that as it may, the poison clouds proved very
effective at Ypres during April and May, 1915. The French line was
driven in and the left brigade of the Canadians on their right was
forced back in a sharp angle. For the first five days the northern
side of the salient was steadily pressed in by gas and artillery
attacks. This, the second battle of Ypres, ended about May 24, 1915;
it had lasted practically as long as the first battle, though the
fighting had been less continuous. The Germans were meanwhile striving
desperately to force a decision in Galicia and Poland, simultaneously
fighting a long-range holding battle in the west with fewer men and
more guns.

On May 10, 1915, began the great attack by the French in the Artois,
aimed at securing Lens and the communications of the Scheldt valley.
After violent artillery-fire preparations, the French center south of
Carency was pushed forward a distance of three miles. In a few days
they took the towns of Albain, Carency, Neuville St. Vaast, and most
of Souchez, besides the whole plateau of Lorette. But the Germans had
prepared a number of fortins, which had to be captured before any
general advance could be made. This mode of warfare enables a
numerically inferior force well supplied with ammunition to resist for
a considerable time the most resolute attacks. The French army was
still engaged in this operation when the first anniversary of the war
dawned. The situation at the moment is summarized in a French official
communiqué as follows: "There has been no great change on the western
front for many months. Great battles have been fought, the casualties
have been heavy on both sides, but territorial gains have been
insignificant."




CHAPTER VI

FIGHTING IN ARTOIS AND THE VOSGES


On the first of August, 1915, the situation on the western front was
as follows: The position of the Belgian troops has been described; the
British held the line from the north of Ypres to the south of La
Bassée. The Germans had closed in to some extent round Ypres during
the two big battles, and the trenches now ran in a semicircle about
the city at a distance of from two and one-half to three miles. The
line turned south at St. Eloi, skirted the west of the Messines ridge,
turned east again at Ploegstreet Wood, and south to the east of
Armentières. Hence the trenches extended southwestward to Neuve
Chapelle and Festhubert to La Bassée. The remainder of the front--down
to the Swiss frontier--was defended by the French, along by Lille,
Rheims, and the fortresses of Verdun, Toul, Epinal, and Belfort.

After the battles of May and June, 1915, in Artois, activity on the
western front became concentrated in the Vosges, where the French by a
series of comparatively successful engagements had managed to secure
possession of more favorable positions and to retain them in spite of
incessant and violent counterattacks. The supreme object of the allied
commanders at this stage was to wear down their opponents through vain
and costly counteroffensives, and to absorb the German local resources
in that sector. It had been decided by the Allies to begin a fresh
offensive on the western front in August, 1915, but owing to
incomplete preparations, the attempt was of necessity postponed till
the third week in September. It was extremely urgent that some
determined move should be made as speedily as possible; the Russians
were suffering defeat and disaster in the east, and were already
retreating from Warsaw in the first days of August, 1915. The British
and the French meanwhile could do little more than engage in local
actions until their arrangements for offensive operations on a vast
scale should be completed. On the other side, the Germans were also
busily making preparations to provide against every possibility in
case of retreat. New lines of defenses were constructed across
Belgium; formidable complex trenches guarded by barbed-wire
entanglements; concrete bases for heavy guns connected by railways;
and a large fortified station was erected. These preparations rendered
possible a very rapid transportation of troops and munitions to
Brabant and Antwerp.

The fighting on the western front during August, 1915, may be
described as a fierce, continuous battle, a lively seesaw of capturing
and recapturing positions, followed at regular intervals by the
publication of the most contradictory "official" reports from the
German, French, and British headquarters. Many of them gave
diametrically opposite accounts of the same events. In the first week
of the month the Germans made furious attacks against the French
positions at Lingekopf and Barrenkopf. All through the Argonne forest
the combatants pelted each other with bombs, hand grenades, and other
newly invented missiles. Several determined attempts were made by the
Germans to recapture the positions lost at Schratzmannele and
Reichsackerkopf, but the French artillery fire proved too strong.
Soissons was again bombarded; desperate night attacks were delivered
around Souchez, on the plateau of Quennevières, and in the valley of
the Aisne; local engagements were fought in Belgium and along parts of
the British front; trenches were mined and shattered, while aeroplanes
scattered bombs and fought thrilling duels in the air. The Belgians
were forced partly to evacuate their advanced positions over the river
Yser, near Hernisse, south of Dixmude. In the Argonne the Germans, by
a strong infantry charge, penetrated the first line of the French
trenches, but were unable to hold their ground.

On August 9, 1915, a squadron of thirty-two large French aeroplanes
carrying explosives, and accompanied by a number of lighter machines
to act as scouts, set out to bombard the important mining and
manufacturing town of Saarbrücken, on the river Saar, in Rhenish
Prussia. This was where the first engagement in the Franco-Prussian
War of 1870 was fought. Owing to mist and heavy clouds, only
twenty-eight of the aeroplanes succeeded in locating the town, where
they dropped one hundred and sixty bombs of large caliber. A number of
German aviators ascended as soon as the flotilla's arrival had been
signaled, and a lively skirmish ensued between them and the French
scouts. The results and casualties of the raid have not leaked out.

The German General Staff was evidently not unacquainted with the fact
that the Allies had a big "drive" in contemplation. Most of the
fighting had been forced by the Germans with ever-increasing violence
and energy. Toward the middle of August, 1915, their attacks became
fiercer still. After a deadly bombardment that literally flattened the
countryside, and in which shells of all calibers as well as
asphyxiating gas bombs were hurled against the French positions
between the Binarville-Vienne-le-Chateau road and the Houyette ravine
in the Argonne, the German infantry dashed from their trenches in
great numbers and close formation and charged across the intervening
ground. So furious was the onslaught that the French were driven well
back out of their shattered defenses. Within a few hours strong
reenforcements hurried to the spot enabled the French to deliver a
counterattack and recover some of the lost ground. Simultaneously, the
Germans attempted to storm the French position in the neighborhood of
La Fontaine-aux-Charmes, but with less success. During the last week
of July and the first half of August, 1915, large bodies of German
troops were detached from the armies operating on the eastern front
and poured into France and Flanders. Different estimates fix the
numbers at from 140,000 to 200,000.

On August 18, 1915, violent fighting broke out in the region north of
Arras, in the course of which the French took an important field
position. In a desperate bayonet charge the following night the
Germans vainly endeavored to recover the ground. The French also
captured a trench in a long battle spread over a wide section of the
Alsatian front. In the Artois they seized the junction of the
highroads between Bethune and Arras and between Ablain and Angres.
North of Carleul they held the Germans in check against a heavy
artillery, infantry, and bomb attack, but were driven out of some
trenches they had previously won on Lingekopf. By the 20th the Germans
had regained some of the trenches on the Ablain-Angres road, but lost
them again in a French bayonet charge two days later. French aviators
bombarded the railway stations at Lens, Hénin-Liétard and Loos, in the
Department of Pas de Calais. Arras, the scene of some of the severest
conflicts in the war, was subjected to another prolonged bombardment
by the heavy German artillery. Thus the pendulum swung to and fro; the
main strength of Germany and Austria-Hungary was strenuously being
exerted in the Polish salient, while on the western front the Germans
also conducted a harassing and exhausting defensive. Meanwhile the
Allies were gradually completing their preparations for the great coup
from which so much was expected.

On August 31, 1915, the science of aviation lost one of its most
daring and brilliant exponents by the death of Alphonse Pégoud. No man
before him ever took such liberties with the law of gravitation or
performed such dare-devil pranks at dizzy altitudes up in the sky. He
was the first to demonstrate the possibility of "looping the loop"
thousands of feet from the earth; many have done the trick since, but
for the pioneer it was a pure gamble with almost certain death. Even
into the serious business of war Pégoud carried his freak aeronautics,
though it must be added that his remarkable skill in that direction
had enabled him to escape from many a perilous situation. A few days
before he fell Pégoud carried out a flight of 186 miles over German
territory. He returned unscathed, while the planes of his machine were
riddled with bullet holes. On the occasion of decorating Pégoud with
the Military Medal in March, 1915, the French Minister for War said:
"Time and again he has pursued the enemy's aeroplanes successfully. On
one day he brought down a monoplane and a biplane and compelled
another biplane to land while he was all the time within range of
fire." The following two of his innumerable thrilling exploits deserve
to be recorded: "At one time Pégoud caught sight of a German
ammunition depot and dropped nine bombs on it. The air concussion was
so great from the explosion of the ammunition that his machine was all
but wrecked, and he regained his equilibrium only after performing
more than exhibition acrobatics. On another occasion, having located a
captive German balloon, he ascended to a great height behind the
clouds and then literally fell out of the sky toward his target. At a
distance of only fifty yards he dropped a bomb which struck the
balloon squarely. The vibration waves caused his aeroplane to bounce
about like a toy boat on a rough pond. But Pégoud still carried his
good luck and, managing to steady the craft, sailed away amid a hail
of German bullets."[1]

         [Footnote 1: New York "Sun."]

Of all the fighting on the western front during the month of August,
1915, the main interest attaches to that carried on in the struggle for
the important mountain peaks in the Vosges which dominated German
positions in the Alsatian valleys and plain. According to the French
official reports, these operations resulted in the capture of the peaks
named Lingekopf, Schratzmannele and Barrenkopf. The German official
statement of September 2, 1915, however, claimed that the first and last
of these had been recaptured. The French preparations for the attack on
Lingekopf included the building of a mountain road eight miles long with
communication trenches extending even farther, and also the construction
of innumerable camps, sheds, ammunition and repair depots, as well as
ambulance stations. The mountain road proved to be a triumph of
engineering, as more than a hundred tons of war material passed over it
daily without a single breakdown. The slopes which had to be stormed
were thickly wooded, which greatly facilitated their defense, while the
main French approach trenches were exposed to a double enfilade fire,
rendering their use impossible in daytime. Between Schratzmannele and
Barrenkopf there was a German blockhouse with cement walls ten feet
thick. This was surrounded with barbed-wire entanglements and
chevaux-de-frise. The French delivered their first attack on July 20,
1915. After a violent bombardment of ten hours, chasseur battalions
stormed the German positions, capturing the Linge summit to the left and
the Barren to the right. The Germans, however, firmly retained their
hold on Schratzmannele. They caught the exposed French flanks with a
stream of machine-gun fire and forced the chasseurs to retire to
sheltered positions lower down the slopes. Two days later the French
made another attack, and for quite a month, judging from the
contradictory "official" reports, these peaks changed hands about twice
a week. The French claim that they obtained "complete possession" on
August 22, 1915, and that "the enemy, who had employed seven brigades
against us, had to accept defeat." The German version, on the other
hand, ran: "The battle line of Lingekopf-Barrenkopf thus passed again
into our possession. All counterattacks have been repulsed."




CHAPTER VII

POLITICAL CRISIS IN FRANCE--AEROPLANE WARFARE--FIERCE COMBATS IN THE
VOSGES--PREPARATIONS FOR ALLIED OFFENSE


It was also during the month of August, 1915, that the political horizon
in France was temporarily overcast by one of those peculiar "crises"
which seem to happen chiefly in countries enjoying the most liberal
institutions and the greatest freedom of speech and press. On the 6th it
was announced from Paris that the Government had decided to replace
General H. J. E. Gouraud, Commander of the French Expeditionary Force at
the Dardanelles, by General Sarrail, who had been designated Commander
in Chief of the Army in the Orient. That Gouraud would have to be
relieved of his command was painfully obvious, for that gallant officer
had been struck by a shell while visiting a base hospital on July 8,
hopelessly shattering his right arm, which had to be amputated. As,
however, the French military contingent in the ill-starred Gallipoli
adventure was but a small affair, the appointment of General Sarrail to
the command thereof could only be regarded as the reverse of a
promotion. In the first great German offensive toward Paris it was
General Sarrail who had successfully defended the fortress of Verdun
against the attacks of the German Crown Prince. Gradually the story came
out that the general was the victim of a political intrigue--a plot to
displace him as well as M. Millerand, the Minister for War. An
acrimonious discussion developed in the French Chamber on August 14,
1915, in which some of the members nearly came to blows. The political
truce, arranged between the conflicting parties at the beginning of the
war, hung in the balance. Faithful to the old tradition that the duty of
the Opposition is to oppose anything and everything, the
Radical-Socialists and the Socialist party were loud in their
denunciation of the conduct of the war, and desired to allocate
responsibility for the military failures of the previous year. A number
of high officers had already been "retired" in connection with those
failures, which were serious enough. But the charge alleged against
Sarrail was that he had omitted to supply his men adequately with
antipoison gas masks. In one of the German attacks in which gas was
used, Sarrail's front was pierced and a thousand men were forced to
surrender. Some accounts gave the number as 5,000. For this the general
was at first suspended, and then offered the other command, which he
refused on the ground that if he was guilty he deserved punishment; if
not, he was entitled to reinstatement. The real motive underlying the
prosecution, however, was generally believed to have been one of a
purely political nature. Sarrail, a "Republican," as opposed to a
"Reactionary," which latter signifies a conservative in politics and,
frequently also, a professed churchman--in short, General Sarrail had
attracted the animosity of both the clerical and radical parties. When,
finally, the Government promised to increase the Dardanelles force to
80,000 men, he accepted the appointment.

The first week in September, 1915, saw considerable artillery activity
along the whole front. Except in the Vosges, where French and German
bayonets clashed on mountain peaks and in underground tunnels,
infantry action had been suspended for nearly two weeks. Heavy
bombardments had been maintained by both sides--those of the Allies
being especially deliberate and persistent. As a fireman would sway
the nozzle of his streaming hose from side to side, so the Allies
poured a continuous, sweeping torrent of shot and shell over the
German positions in certain well-defined zones along the line. It
began from the extreme left on the Belgian front, thence swung into
the region of Souchez, then around Arras, farther on along the Aisne,
particularly at the two extremities of the Aisne plateau, turned to
the right in Champagne, spread to the Argonne, next in the Woevre and
finally in Lorraine. Beneath the cyclone and out of sight trench
mortar actions were fought, mining operations carried on, bombs and
hand grenades thrown.

On September 1, 1915, four German aeroplanes had dropped bombs on the
open town of Lunéville, killing many civilians. As a measure of
reprisal forty French aeroplanes returned the compliment by making
another air raid on Saarbrücken, where they bombarded the station,
factories, and military establishments. A squadron of thirty or forty
vessels of the British Fleet bombarded the whole of the Belgian coast
in German possession as far as Ostend. French artillery stationed in
the vicinity of Nieuport cooperated to shell the German coast
batteries at Westende. In retaliation for the bombardment of the open
towns of St. Dié and Gérardmer by German aeroplanes, a French
aeroplane squadron assailed the railroad and military establishments
of Freiburg in Breisgau. Aerial operations had by this time become a
powerful auxiliary to the combatants on each side. The aeroplane
attained a definite position as a weapon even in trench and field
warfare. Machines hovered over the lines every day, reconnoitering and
dropping bombs on positions, stores, transports, moving troops,
trenches, and munition depots. Bombardment by aeroplane was, in fact,
quite as serious and formidable a business as any artillery attack.
The bombs carried by these machines were exactly of the same caliber
as those used by heavy guns. Constant practice afforded by daily
opportunities had enormously increased the skill of the aviators, many
of whom could hit a small house from high altitudes without much
trouble. Duels and pitched battles in the air were of daily occurrence
on the western front. As soon as an "enemy flyer" hove in sight on
either side of the lines, locally attached aviators rose and attacked
the intruder. This, the most "modern" method of fighting, has produced
a crop of thrilling incidents and stirring examples of bravery
exhibited by the German, French, and British flying men. A code of
what might be called "aerial chivalry" has spontaneously grown up
among the flying fraternity. Two pretty incidents will suffice to
demonstrate: A German aviator had been attacked and brought to earth
by a French airman. The German was killed in the contest. In the dead
man's pocket was found a diary of his adventures in the war, and other
happenings, from day to day. It was written in conversational style
addressed throughout to his wife, together with a letter to her of the
same day's date. The next morning a French aeroplane flew over the
German line. Descending to within a few hundred yards of the ground,
despite the hail of bullets that whistled around him, the aviator
dropped a neatly wrapped parcel, rose suddenly to a great height and
was gone. That parcel contained all the dead German aviator's private
property, his papers, medals, etc., with a note of sympathy from the
victor. A few days after the death of Pégoud, who was killed in midair
before he fell, a German aviator flew at great height over an Alsatian
commune on the old frontier and dropped a wreath bearing the
inscription: "In memory of Pégoud, who died a hero's death, from his
adversary."

The French method of aerial maneuvering is interesting as well as
effective. Their air squadrons operate in the following manner: ten
machines rise 6,000 feet along the enemy's line; ten others rise 9,000
feet. If an enemy machine attempts to pass the Frenchmen attack
simultaneously from above and below, while, if necessary, two other
machines come to their aid. Thus the intruder is always at a
disadvantage. On several occasions the Germans attempted to fly across
the French lines in force, but always with disastrous consequences.
When the French set out in squadrons to make a raid or bombard a
position they pursue the same tactics and achieve very important
results.

Early in September, 1915, General Joffre paid a visit to Rome, was
received in audience by King Victor Emmanuel, and decorated with the
highest Italian military distinction--the Grand Cross of the Military
Order of Savoy--as proof of his majesty's esteem for the French army.
General Joffre afterward made a tour of the Italian battle front and
conferred with General Cadorna.

About September 8, 1915, the Germans recommenced to attack in the
Argonne, where the German Crown Prince had failed to break the French
line in June and July. After a violent artillery preparation,
including the use of a large number of asphyxiating shells, two
infantry divisions were flung against the French. The Germans rushed
the first-line trenches at several points. Strong attacks were
launched against them and prevented any further advance.

French and British airmen raided the aviation sheds at Ostend; another
air squadron dropped sixty shells on the aviation ground at Saint
Medard and on the railway station at Dieuze, in Lorraine, twenty-five
miles northeast of Nancy. A bombardment of Zeebrugge by the British
fleet caused much damage, the Germans losing forty dead and some
hundred wounded. Here the submarine port, with two submersibles and
two guns on the harbor wall were destroyed, while the central airship
shed, containing at the time two dirigibles, was also severely
damaged. The semaphore tower was shot to pieces and some sluices
crippled. Perhaps the most exciting incident at this period was the
great allied air raid on the Forest of Houlthulst, about halfway
between Ypres and Dixmude. The forest was quite sheltered from the
ravages of the allied guns, and had been converted into a regular
garrison district, with comfortable barracks full of soldiers,
provision stores, and large munition depots. The whole camp was
brilliantly illuminated with electric light.

At ten o'clock on the night of September 9, 1915, sixty French,
British and Belgian aeroplanes started out in clear moonlight.
Immediately the aerial flotilla had announced its approach by the
well-known buzzing of sixty industrious propellers, the whole
neighborhood was plunged in sudden darkness. The moon, however,
supplied the necessary light to guide the sky raiders to their goal.
Besides, French flyers had already photographed the region in broad
daylight, so that the situation of the main buildings was thoroughly
known to all the pilots. It is stated that four tons of high
explosives and incendiary bombs were scattered with deadly effect;
some of the aircraft whose stock became exhausted flew back to their
base, landed, refilled, and returned to the scene of action--two and
three times. The greatest consternation naturally prevailed among the
soldiers below, running in panic-stricken groups to escape from the
blasting shower let loose over their heads. Indescribable confusion
prevailed; frequent explosions were heard as some aerial missile found
a piled-up accumulation of its own kind. By 11.30, an hour and a half
after the squadron had set sail, the entire forest and the buildings
it contained were in flames. The next morning a German aeroplane,
"adorned with sixteen Iron Crosses," was forced to descend near Calais
owing to engine trouble and was captured by the French.

By way of reprisals for the continued attacks on Lunéville and
Compiègne by German aviators, a squadron of French aeroplanes flew
over the German town of Trier (Trèves) on September 13, 1915, and
deposited one hundred bombs. After returning to the base and taking on
board further supplies, they set out again in the afternoon and
dropped fifty-eight shells on the station of Dommary Baroncourt. Other
aeros bombarded the railway stations at Donaueschingen on the Danube
and at Marbach, where movements of troops had been reported. Activity
grew in intensity all along the front. Artillery fighting on the Yser,
the north and south of Arras, in the sectors of Neuville, Roclincourt
and Mailly. To the north of the Oise the French artillery carried out
a destructive fire on the German defenses and the works of
Beuvraignes. Infantry attacks occurred in front of Andrechy. On the
canal from the Aisne to the Marne the French bombarded the trenches,
batteries and cantonments of the Germans in the environs of Sapigneul
and of Neuville, near Berry-au-Bac. Grenade engagements took place
near the Bethune-Arras road and north of Souchez. South of the Somme,
before Fay, there were constant and stubborn mine duels, while fierce
bombardments in the sectors of Armancourt (southwest of Compiègne),
Beuvraignes (south of Roye), as well as on the plateau of.
Quennevières (northeast of Compiègne) and Nouvron (northwest of
Soissons), continued uninterruptedly. In Champagne and in the Argonne
also, long range artillery fighting rent the air.

On the Lorraine front, in the environs of Embermenil, Leintrey, and
Ancerviller, near Lunéville, the German trenches and works were
subjected to heavy fire. Poison shells and liquid fire played an
important part in the furious fighting that was gradually developing
in the Vosges, and assisted the Germans to gain some initial
successes. On the Lingekopf-Barrenkopf front the French were driven
out of a first-line trench on the Schratzmannele, but they recovered
most of the ground by a counterattack. Similarly on the summit of the
Hartmannsweilerkopf, where the Germans had also obtained a footing in
the French trenches, they were subsequently ejected again. These
trenches had been captured with the aid of blazing liquids. Our first
knowledge of this "blazing liquid" (outside of Germany) was derived
from a document which fell into French hands early in the war. It was
Note 32 of the Second Army, dated October 16, 1914, at St. Quentin. In
it were published the following instructions under the heading of
"Arms at the disposal of Pioneers (Sappers) for fighting at close
quarters":

"The flame projectors (Flammenwerfer), which are very similar to
portable fire extinguishers, are worked by specially trained pioneers
and throw a liquid which at once catches fire spontaneously. The jet
of fire has an effective range of 30 meters. The effect is immediate
and deadly, and the great heat developed forces the enemy back a long
way. As they burn from one and a half to two minutes, and can be
stopped whenever necessary, short and isolated jets of flame are
advisable, so that one charge is sufficient to spray several
objectives. Flame projectors will be mainly employed in street and
house-to-house fighting, and will be kept in readiness at the place
from which an attack starts."

There is no doubt that some engines of this nature were employed by
the Germans during August and September, 1914, to destroy portions of
the towns and villages destroyed by them. One captured apparatus,
actually examined, comprised a portable reservoir for holding the
inflammable liquid and the means of spraying it. The former, which is
carried strapped on to a man's back, is a steel cylinder containing
oil and compressed air in separate chambers. The latter consists of a
suitable length of metal pipe fitted with universal joints and a
nozzle capable of rotation in any direction. When a valve is turned
on, the air pressure forces the oil out of the nozzle in a fine spray
for a distance of over twenty yards. The oil is ignited automatically
at the nozzle and continues to issue in a sheet of flame until the air
pressure falls too low or the oil is exhausted. The heat given out is
terrific in its intensity. A similar method employed by the German
troops consists of a liquid substance which is squirted into the
trenches. Bombs are then thrown which on explosion ignite the fluid.
Yet another sort of projectile took the form of an incendiary bomb or
shell which was discharged noiselessly, possibly from a catapult. It
bursts on impact, tearing a hole and burning a circle of ground about
eight feet in diameter.

By the middle of the month, September, 1915, the liveliest activity
obtained everywhere in the west--each side apparently doing its utmost
to harass the other. Nothing of a definite nature was achieved by
either. The Germans were merely sitting tight along most of the line
while taking the offensive only in those sectors where they had reason
to believe the Allies would attempt to strike the great blow. The
Allies, on the other hand, endeavored to weaken their opponents as
much as possible in order to create an easier passage for the great
"drive" they contemplated. The innumerable engagements about this time
throughout the western theatre of the war form a bewildering conflict
of unconnected and minor battles and skirmishes. When, years hence,
the "official" histories are written and published, the student may be
able to read the riddle and trace some thread of continuity and
intention through the labyrinth of these operations. For the present
they must be regarded as mere incidents in the overture leading to a
great battle. The actions were described from day to day with some
detail by the Allies, and as "unimportant attempts" by the German
official communiqués. The latter generally consisted of few words that
gave little or no indication of what had happened, and frequently
wound up with the phrase: "There was no change on the front." The
following translation may be given as a typical example; "The French
attempted an attack but were repulsed by our fire. An enemy aeroplane
was shot down. We successfully attacked in the Argonne. The situation
is unchanged."

On September 18, 1915, the British fleet again bombarded the German
defenses on the Belgian coast, in conjunction with the British
artillery in the Nieuport district. Unabated fighting raged along the
whole front, and it was all summed up in the German official
communiqué of September 20, 1915, with commendable brevity:

"The hostile vessels which unsuccessfully bombarded Westende and
Middelkerke, southwest of Ostend, withdrew before our fire. Several
hits were observed. Along the land front there were no important
events."

Nevertheless, important events were shaping themselves about this
time. German artillery attacks increased in violence against the
British front. Aeroplanes were particularly busy observing all moves
on the board. In Champagne the Germans kept the French occupied with
heavy shells and "lachrymatory projectiles." These projectiles have
been described as "tearful and wonderful engines of war." They are
ordinary hand grenades with a charge that rips open the grenade and
liberates a liquid chemical. When that happens, the effect of the
fumes brings water to the eyes of the men in such quantities that they
are quite unable to defend themselves in the event of an attack.
Shooting is entirely out of the question. The stinging sensation
produced in the eyes is not pleasant, but it is not painful, and the
effect wears off in a few minutes. The troops humorously refer to
these grenades as "onions."

On September 21, 1915, a party of French airmen carried out the most
daring of the many raids on German towns and positions they had
hitherto accomplished. An aero squadron flew to Stuttgart, which is
about 140 miles due east from Nancy, and dropped thirty shells on the
palace of the King of Württemberg and the railway station of the town.
They were fired at from many points, but safely completed their double
journey of nearly 300 miles. Before this exploit, which was undertaken
as a reprisal, the longest distances traveled by raiding squadrons of
French aeroplanes were those to the Friedrichshafen Zeppelin
factories on June 28, 1915, involving a double journey of 240 miles
from Belfort; and to the explosives factory at Ludwigshafen, on the
Rhine, which represented a distance of 230 miles from Nancy and back.
The Berlin official report thus describes the event:

"At 8.15 this morning enemy airmen with German marks on their aeros
attacked Stuttgart and dropped several bombs on the town, killing four
persons and wounding a number of soldiers and civilians. The material
damage was quite unimportant."




CHAPTER VIII

THE GREAT CHAMPAGNE OFFENSIVE


The day fixed for the opening of the Allies' long-projected offensive
dawned on September 22, 1915. Gigantic preparations had been in the
making. Large drafts of fresh British troops had been poured into
France, which enabled Sir John French to take over the defense of a
portion of the lines hitherto held by General Joffre's men. Defensive
organizations had been improved all round; immense supplies of
munitions had been accumulated; units had been carefully regrouped and
new ones created; all that skill, foresight and arduous toil could
accomplish had been attained. The spirit of the human fighting
material was all that could be desired. In order not to interrupt the
course of the narrative later, we insert here the interesting general
order that the French commander in chief issued to his troops on
September 23, 1915, when it was read to the regiments by their
officers:

"_Soldiers of the Republic:_

"After months of waiting, which have enabled us to increase our forces
and our resources, while the adversary has been using up his own, the
hour has come to attack and conquer and to add fresh glorious pages
to those of the Marne and Flanders, the Vosges and Arras.

"Behind the whirlwind of iron and fire let loose, thanks to the
factories of France, where your brothers have, night and day, worked
for us, you will proceed to the attack, all together, on the whole
front, in close union with the armies of our allies.

"Your _élan_ will be irresistible. It will carry you at a bound up to
the batteries of the adversary, beyond the fortified lines which he
has placed before you.

"You will give him neither pause nor rest until victory has been
achieved.

"Set to with all your might for the deliverance of the soil of la
Patrie, for the triumph of justice and liberty.

                                                          "J. JOFFRE."

The general outlines of the plan of campaign may be briefly described:
The British were to deliver a main attack on the German trenches
between Lens and La Bassée, in close cooperation with the French on
their immediate right in Artois, and to hold the enemy by secondary
attacks and demonstrations on the rest of the (British) front, about
eighty miles. The French, for their part, took in hand the two
principal operations--to batter through in Artois and to exert their
mightiest efforts in Champagne.

[Illustration: Zigzag trenches in Champagne. The strip on which the
armies are clinched varies in width and winds over dunes, marshes,
woods and mountains.]

To a proper understanding of a campaign or a battle, some knowledge of
the topographical conditions is essential. The chief scene in the
act--where the grand attack falls--is the beautiful vineyard region of
Champagne. Here the German front is the same as they established and
fortified it after the Battle of the Marne. It rests on the west side
on the Massif de Moronvillers; to the east it stretches as far as the
Argonne. It was intended to cover the railroad from Challerange to
Bazancourt, a line indispensable for the concentration movements of
the German troops. The offensive front, which extends from Auberive to
the east of Ville-sur-Tourbe, presents a varied aspect. From east to
west may be seen, firstly, a glacis or sloping bank about five miles
wide and covered with little woods. The road from Saint-Hilaire to
Saint-Souplet, with the Baraque de l'Épine de Vedegrange, marks
approximately its axis.

[Illustration: The Champagne District.]

(2) The hollow, in which lies the pretty village of Souain and where
the first German line follows its edge. The road from Souain to
Pomme-Py describes the radius of this semicircle. The farm of Navarin
stands on the top of the hills two miles north of Souain.

(3) To the north of Perthes, a comparatively tranquil region of
uniform aspect, forming between the wooded hills of the Trou Bricot
and those of the Butte du Mesnil a passage two miles wide, barred by
several lines of trenches and ending at a series of heights--the Butte
de Souain, Hills 195 and 201 and the Butte de Tahure, surmounted by
the second German line.

(4) To the north of Mesnil, a very strong position, bastioned on the
west by two twin heights (Mamelle Nord and Trapèze), on the east by
the Butte du Mesnil. The German trenches form a powerful curtain
between these two bastions, behind which a thickly wooded undulating
region extends as far as Tahure.

(5) To the north of Beauséjour, a bare terrain easily traversable,
with a gentle rise in the direction of Ripon to the farms of Maisons
de Champagne.

(6) To the north of Massiges, hills numbered 191 and 199, describing
on the map the figure of a hand, very strongly fortified and forming
the eastern flank of the whole German line. This table-land slopes
down gently in the direction of Ville-sur-Tourbe.

As to the German defenses, the French were intimately acquainted with
every detail. They had maps showing every defensive work, trench,
alley of communication, and clump of trees in the landscape. Each of
these features had been given a special name or number preceded by a
certain letter, according to the sector of attack wherein it was
situated. These details had been laboriously collected by aviators and
spies, and applied with minute precision.

On the morning of September 22, 1915, the French accelerated their
long-sustained bombardment of the German positions with intense fury,
continuing day and night without a break until the 25th. The direct
object of this preparatory cannonade was to destroy the wire
entanglements, bury the defenders in their dugouts, raze the trenches,
smash the embrasures, and stop up the alleys of communication. The
range included not only the first trench line, but also the supporting
trench and the second position, though the last was so far distant as
to make accurate observation difficult. The heavy long-range guns
shelled the headquarters, the cantonments and the railroad stations.
They speedily demolished the permanent way, thereby stopping all
traffic in reenforcements, munitions and commissariat. From letters
and notes afterwards found upon German prisoners who came out alive
from that inferno, one may gather an approximate idea of what the
bombardment was like:


                                                        "September 23.

"The French artillery fired without intermission from the morning of
the 21st to the evening of the 23rd, and we all took refuge in our
dugouts. On the evening of the 22d we were to have gone to get some
food, but the French continued to fire on our trenches. In the evening
we had heavy losses, and we had nothing to eat."


                                                        "September 24.

"For the last two days the French have been firing like mad. To-day,
for instance, a dugout has been destroyed. There were sixteen men in
it. Not one of them managed to save his skin. They are all dead.
Besides that, a number of individual men have been killed and there
are a great mass of wounded. The artillery fires almost as rapidly as
the infantry. A mist of smoke hangs over the whole battle front, so
that it is impossible to see anything. Men are dropping like flies.
The trenches are no longer anything but a mound of ruins."


                                                        "September 24.

"A rain of shells is pouring down upon us. The kitchen and everything
that is sent to us is bombarded at night. The field kitchens no longer
come to us. Oh, if only the end were near! That is the cry everyone is
repeating."


                                                        "September 25.

"I have received no news, and probably shall not receive any for some
days. The whole postal service has been stopped; all places have been
bombarded to such an extent that no human being could stand against
it. The railway line is so seriously damaged that the train service
for some time has been completely stopped. We have been for three days
in the first line; during those three days the French have fired so
heavily that our trenches are no longer visible."


                                                        "September 25.

"We have passed through some terrible hours. It was as though the
whole world were in a state of collapse. We have had heavy losses. One
company of 250 men had sixty killed last night. A neighboring battery
had sixteen killed yesterday. The following instance will show you the
frightful destructiveness of the French shells: A dugout five meters
deep, surrounded by two meters fifty centimeters of earth and two
thicknesses of heavy timber, was broken like a match."


Report made on September 24, 1915, in the morning, by the captain
commanding the Third Company of the 135th Regiment of Reserves:

"The French are firing on us with great bombs and machine guns. We
must have reenforcements at once. Many men are no longer fit for
anything. It is not that they are wounded, but they are Landsturmers.
Moreover the wastage is greater than the losses announced. Send
rations immediately; no food has reached us to-day. Urgently want
illuminating cartridges and hand grenades. Is the hospital corps never
coming to fetch the wounded? I urgently beg for reenforcements; the
men are dying from fatigue and want of sleep. I have no news of the
battalion."

The time fixed for all the attacks on the Champagne front was 9.15 a.
m., September 25, 1915. Just before the assault General Joffre issued
the following brief order:

"The offensive will be carried on without truce and without respite.

"Remember the Marne--Victory or death."

Punctual to the moment the troops climbed out of their trenches with
the aid of steps or scaling ladders and drew up in line before making
a rush at the German trenches. The operation was rapidly effected. The
German position was at an average distance of 220 yards; at the word
of command the troops broke into a steady trot and covered that ground
without any serious loss. The honor of the first assault was granted
to the dare-devil Colonial Corps, men hardened in the building up of
France's African Empire, and to the Moroccan troops, famous for fierce
and obstinate fighting. The men tore across the ground to the assault,
led by their commander, General Marchand, of Fashoda fame, who left
the army at the age of forty-four but volunteered immediately on the
outbreak of the war, and was given command of the Colonial Brigade.
General Marchand fell in the charge with a dangerous shell wound in
the abdomen. The men dashed on to the German trench line, stirring the
rain-drenched, chalky soil to foam beneath their feet. Under the
leadership of General Baratier, Marchand's right-hand man in his
colonial conquests, the French Colonial Cavalry played an important
part in the charge. This was the first time for many months that
cavalry really came into action on the western front. They lost
heavily, but their activities probably explain the great number of
prisoners captured in so short a time.

At nearly every point the Germans were taken completely by surprise,
for their defensive fire was not opened until after the flowing tide
of the invaders had passed by. This was due neither to lack of courage
nor of vigilance, but to the demoralizing effect on the nerves of the
defenders by the terrific cannonade, which in all such cases induces a
sort of helpless apathy.

The French actually penetrated into the first German trench over the
whole attacking front at one rush; after that their progress met with
fiercer resistance and varying checks. While certain units continued
their advance with remarkable rapidity, others encountered machine
guns still in action and either stopped or advanced with extreme
difficulty. Some centers of the German resistance maintained their
position for several hours; some even for days. A line showing the
different stages of the French advance in Champagne would assume a
curiously winding shape, and would reveal on one hand the defensive
power of an adversary resolved to hold his ground at all costs, and
on the other the mathematically successful continuity of the French
efforts in this hand-to-hand struggle.

The Battle of Champagne must be considered in the light of a series of
assaults, executed at the same moment, in parallel or convergent
directions and having for their object either the capture or the
hemming in of the first German position, the units being instructed to
re-form in a continuous line before the second position. In order to
follow the development clearly, the terrain must be divided into
several sectors, in each of which the operations, although closely
coordinated, assumed, as a consequence either of the nature of the
ground or of the peculiarities of the German defenses, a different
character. The unity of the action was nevertheless insured by the
simultaneity of the rush, which carried all the troops beyond the
first position, past the batteries, to the defenses established by the
Germans on the heights to the south of Py. At the two extremities of
the French attacking front, where the advance was subjected to
converging fires and to counterattacks on the flanks, the offensive
practically failed--or at least made no progress. The fighting that
took place in Auberive and round about Servon was marked by several
heroic features, but it led to no further result than to hold and
immobilize the German forces on the wings while the attack was
progressing in the center.

[Illustration: Detail Map of Battle in Champagne, September, 1915.]

In accordance with the proposed arrangement of divisions into sectors,
we will take as Number--

(1) The sector of the Épine de Vedegrange: Here the first German line
was established at the base of a wide glacis covered with clumps of
trees, and formed a series of salients running into each other. At
certain points it ran along the edge of the woods where the
supplementary defenses were completed by abatis. The position as a
whole between Auberive and Souain described a vast triangle. To the
west of the road from Saint-Hilaire to Saint-Souplet, the troops
traversed the first German line and rushed forward for a distance of
about 1,200 yards as far as a supporting trench, in front of which
they were stopped by wire entanglements. A counterattack debouching
from the west and supported by the artillery of Moronvillers caused a
slight retirement of the French left. The troops on the right, on
the contrary, held their gains and succeeded on the following days in
increasing and extending them, remaining in touch with the units which
were attacking on the east of the road. The latter had succeeded in a
brilliant manner in overcoming the difficulties that faced them. The
German position which they captured, with its triple and quadruple
lines of trenches, its small forts armed with machine guns, its woods
adapted for the defensive purpose in view, constituted one of the most
complete schemes of defense on the Champagne front and afforded cover
to a numerous artillery concealed in the woods of the glacis. On this
front, about three miles wide, the attack on September 25, 1915,
achieved a mixed success. The troops on the left, after having
penetrated into the first trench, had their progress arrested by
machine guns. On the right, however, in spite of obstacles presented
by four successive trenches, each of which was covered by a network of
wire entanglements and was concealed in the woods, where the French
artillery had difficulty in reaching them, the attacking troops gained
about one and one-half miles, took 700 prisoners and captured seven
guns.

The advance here recommenced on September 27, 1915. The left took
possession of the woods lining the road from Saint-Hilaire to
Saint-Souplet as far as the Épine de Vedegrange. Along the whole
extent of the wooded heights as far as the western side of the hollow
at Souain the success was identical. Notwithstanding the losses they
sustained and the fatigue involved in the incessant fighting, the
troops pushed forward, leaving behind them only a sufficient force to
clear the woods of isolated groups of Germans still remaining there.
Between four and six in the afternoon they arrived immediately in
front of the second German position. On the same day they penetrated
this position at two points, and captured a trench over a thousand
yards wide, called the "Parallel of the Épine de Vedegrange," which
was duplicated almost throughout by another trench (the parallel of
the wood of Chevron). A little farther east the French also penetrated
the German trench to a depth of about 450 yards. But it was impossible
to take advantage of this breach owing to a concentration of the
heavy German artillery, a rapidly continued defense of the surrounding
woods, and the fire of machine guns which could not be approached.
These guns were planted in the trenches on the right and left of the
entry and exit of the breach. The results attained by the French in
this sector alone amounted to fifteen square miles of territory
organized for defenses throughout nearly the whole of its extent. On
September 28, 1915, they also took over 3,000 prisoners and forty-four
cannon.

(2) Sector of Souain: The German lines round about Souain described a
wide curve. Close to the French trenches, to the west at the Mill and
to the east at the wood of Sabot, they swerved to the extent of about
a mile to the north of the village and of the source of the Ain.

When the offensive was decided upon it was necessary, in order to
extend the French lines forward to striking distance, to undertake
sapping operations in parallel lines, and at times to make dashes by
night over the intervening ground. The men working underground got
into communication with the trenches by digging alleys of
communication. Under the eyes and the fire of the Germans this
difficult undertaking was carried out with very slight loss. These
parallel lines approached to within a distance of 150 yards of the
German trenches. The assault was made in three different directions:
on the west in the direction of Hills 167 and 174; in the center along
a line running parallel with the road from Souain to Pomme-Py, in the
direction of the farm of Navarin; on the east in the direction of the
woods intersected by the road from Souain to Tahure, and in the
direction of the Butte de Souain. The advance was extremely rapid--on
the left over 2,000 yards in less than an hour, in the center over
3,000 yards in forty-five minutes. At 10 a. m. the French had reached
the farm of Navarin. Toward the east the forward march was more
difficult. Some German machine guns stood their ground in the wood of
Sabot and enormously strengthened the German resistance. This defense
was eventually overcome by surrounding them. Arriving at the wooded
region in that part where it is intersected by the road mentioned
above, the assailants joined up on the 27th with those of their
comrades who were attacking to the north of Perthes. They left behind
them here, also, only sufficient men to clear the woods of stragglers.

Parlementaires were sent to the Germans, who received them with a
volley of rifle shots and endeavored to escape during the night. The
majority were killed and the survivors surrendered. Several batteries
and a large quantity of war material remained to the French. On the
28th, along the entire length of the sector, they were immediately in
front of the second German line.

(3) Sector of Perthes: Between Souain and Perthes stretches a wooded
region in which heavy fighting had already taken place in February and
March. At that time the French had contrived to take possession of the
German defenses of the wood of Sabot on the eastern extremity of this
region. They had also made some progress to the northwest of Perthes,
on the summit of Hill 200. But between these two positions the Germans
had retained a strong system of trenches forming a salient almost
triangular in shape, which the French nicknamed "la Poche" (the
Pocket). During the whole year a war of mining had been going on, and
the region, which was broken up by concave constructions and
intersected in all directions by trenches and alleys of communication,
constituted an attacking ground all the more difficult because to the
north of la Poche the rather thickly-wooded Trou Bricot, the edges of
which had been put in a state of defense, obstructed a rapid advance.
This wooded region extends over a width of more than a mile. The
arrangements made for the attack contemplated, after the capture of la
Poche, the surrounding of the woods of the Trou Bricot. The junction
was to be made at the road from Souain to Tahure, with the troops
assigned for the attack on the eastern border of the hollow at Souain.

The ground to the east of the Trou Bricot was less difficult. Open and
comparatively flat it was defended on the north of Perthes by a triple
line of trenches distant 100 yards from each other. At a distance of
1,000 to 1,200 yards a supporting trench, called the "York trench,"
was almost unique in its entire construction. The open country beyond
stretched for a distance of two and one-half miles up to the second
German position (Hill 195, Butte de Tahure). The principal effort was
directed against this passage, the left flank of attack being secured
by a subsidiary action confined to the capture of la Poche.

At 9 a. m. the French artillery directed their fire successively
against the first-line trenches and the supporting trenches. The
attack took place in perfect order. The infantry were already swarming
into the German trenches when the German artillery opened its
defensive fire. The French counterbatteries hampered the German pieces
and the reserves in the rear suffered little from their fire. At 9.45
a. m. the two columns which were attacking the extremities of the
salient of la Poche joined hands. The position was surrounded. Those
Germans who remained alive inside it surrendered. At the same time a
battalion was setting foot in the defenses of the southern edges of
the wood of Trou Bricot. The battalion that followed, marching to the
outside of the eastern edges, executed with perfect regularity a "left
turn" and came and formed up alongside the communication alleys as far
as the supporting trench. At the same moment, in the open country to
the north of Perthes, the French troops surmounted the three
first-line trenches and, preceded by artillery, made a quick march to
the York trench and occupied it almost without striking a blow.

Farther to the east, along the road from Perthes to Tahure, the French
advance encountered greater difficulties. Some centers of the German
resistance could not be overcome. A sheltered machine gun continued
its fire. An infantry officer, with a petty officer of artillery,
succeeded in getting a gun into action at a distance of over 300 yards
from the machine gun and firing at it at close quarters. Of the troops
that were advancing to the north of Perthes, some made for the eastern
border of the wood of Bricot, where they penetrated into the camps,
ousting the defenders and surprising several officers in bed. Late in
the afternoon a French regiment had reached the road from Souain to
Tahure. Other units were marching straight toward the north, clearing
out the little woods on the way. They there captured batteries of
which the artillerymen were "riveted to their guns by means of
bayonets." The same work of clearance was meanwhile being performed in
the woods extending east of the road from Perthes to Souain and
Tahure, where batteries were charged and captured while in action. At
this spot a regiment covered three miles in two hours and captured ten
guns. From midday onward the rate of progress slackened, the bad
weather making it impossible for the French artillery to see what was
going on, and rendering the joining up movements extremely difficult.
From the Buttes de Souain and Tahure the Germans directed converging
fires on the French, who were advancing there along very open ground.
Nevertheless, they continued their advance as far as the slopes of
Hill 193 and the Butte de Tahure and there dug themselves in.

The night passed without any German counterattack. In the darkness the
French artillery brought forward their heavy pieces and several field
batteries which had arrived immediately after the attack beyond the
York trench. At dawn the reconstituted regiments made another forward
rush which enabled them to establish themselves in immediate contact
with the second German position from the Butte de Souain to the Butte
de Tahure, and even to seize several advanced posts in the
neighborhood. But on the lower slopes some of the wire entanglements
remained intact; a successful assault on them would have been possible
only after a fresh artillery preparation. Up to October 6, 1915, the
troops remained where they were, digging trenches and organizing a
defensive system which had to be constructed all over again on ground
devastated by German fire.

(4) Sector of Le Mesnil: It was to the north of Le Mesnil that the
French encountered the greatest German resistance. In the course of
the engagements of the preceding winter the French had succeeded in
securing a foothold on top of the hill numbered 196. The Germans
remained a little to the east, in the "Ravin des Cuisines" (Ravine of
the Kitchens). This the French now took by assault, but could get no
farther. The German trenches, constructed on the northern slopes of
Hill 196, were so concealed from field observation that it was
difficult for the artillery to reach them. They were furthermore
flanked on one side by the twin heights of the Mamelles, and on the
other by the Butte du Mesnil. Some French units managed to penetrate
into the trenches to the eastward on the 25th, but a counterattack and
flank fires dislodged them again. To the west they did not capture the
northern Mamelle till the night of October 1-2, 1915, thereby
surrounding the trapeze works that surmounted the southern Mamelle.

(5) Sector of Beauséjour: The French attacks launched north of
Beauséjour met with more conspicuous success. Throwing themselves on
the first German lines the swarming invaders rapidly captured the
defense works in the woods of Fer de Lance and Demi-Lune, and
afterwards all the works known as the Bastion. Certain units won the
top of Maisons de Champagne in one rush and darted past several
batteries, killing the gunners as they served their pieces. The same
movement took them across the intricate region of the mine "funnels"
of Beauséjour up to the wood intersected by the road to Maisons de
Champagne. There they encountered German artillerymen in the act of
unlimbering their guns. They killed the drivers and the horses; the
survivors surrendered.

Farther westward the left wing of the attacking force advanced with
greater difficulty, being hampered by the small forts and covered
works with which the trenches were everywhere protected. At this
moment the cavalry unexpectedly came to the support of the infantry.
Two squadrons of hussars galloped against the German batteries north
of Maisons de Champagne in the teeth of a fierce artillery fire. They
nevertheless reached that part of the lines where the Germans still
held their ground. Machine guns rattled against the cavalry, dropping
many of their horses. The hussars dismounted and, with drawn sabers,
made a rush for the trenches. Favored by this diversion the infantry
simultaneously resumed their forward movement. The German resistance
broke down, and more than 600 were taken prisoners. Later in the day
of the 25th some German counterattacks were made from the direction of
Ripon, but failed to drive the French from the Maisons de Champagne
summit. During the next few days a desperate struggle ensued north of
the summit in the vicinity of a defensive work called the "Ouvrage de
la Défaite," which the French took by storm, lost it again, then
recovered it, and finally were driven out by a severe bombardment.

(6) Sector of Massiges: The safety of the French troops which had
advanced to the wood and the Maisons de Champagne was assured by the
capture of the heights of Massiges. This sharply undulating upland
(199 on the north and 191 on the south) formed a German stronghold
that was believed to be impregnable. From the top they commanded the
French positions in several directions. The two first attacking
parties marched out in columns at 9.15 a. m., preceded by
field-artillery fire. In fifteen minutes they had reached the summit.
Then their difficulties began. In the face of a withering rifle and
machine-gun fire they could proceed but slowly along the summits by
the communication alleys, blasting their way through with hand
grenades, and supported by the artillery, which was constantly kept
informed of their movements by means of flag signals. The Germans
surrendered in large numbers as the grenadiers advanced. The French
formed an uninterrupted, ever-lengthening chain of grenade-bearers in
the communication alleys, just as buckets of water were passed from
hand to hand at fires in former times. This chain started from
Massiges and each fresh arrival of grenades at the other end was
accompanied by a further advance.

The fight continued in this manner from September 25, 1915, to October
3, 1915, with fierce perseverance against stubborn opposition. The
Germans poured a continuous stream of reenforcements into the section
and offered a resistance that has rarely been equaled for obstinacy
and courage. According to French reports, they stood up to be shot
down--the machine-gun men at their guns, the grenadiers on their
grenade chests. Every attempt at counterattacking failed them. Having
the heights of Massiges in their possession enabled the French to
extend their gains toward Ville-sur-Tourbe, while taking in flank
those trenches they had failed to capture by a frontal attack. The
loss of these heights seemed to have particularly disturbed the German
General Staff. It was at first denied in the official reports, and
then explained that the ground had been abandoned owing to artillery
fire, whereas the French Headquarters Staff claimed that they had
captured the ground mainly by hand-grenade fighting at close quarters.

The Battle of Champagne presents a number of curious aspects. How came
the Germans to be so overwhelmingly surprised? Beyond all doubt, they
expected a great French offensive. In the orders of the day issued by
General von Ditfurth on August 15, 1915--five weeks before the French
attack began--we read, "The possibility of a great French offensive
must be considered." General von Fleck was rather late: on September
26, 1915, when the French had already taken nearly the whole
first-line trenches, he expressed the opinion that "The French Higher
Command appears to be disposed to make another desperate effort." What
is tolerably certain is that the German General Staff did not foresee
the strength of the blow nor suspect the vigor with which it would be
delivered. Even the command on the battle field itself apparently
failed to recognize what was happening before their eyes. Inside the
shelters of the second line two German officers were placidly enjoying
the delights of morning in bed, when they were disturbed by noises
which it was beyond their wits to account for. The door of their
little house was rudely thrust open and excited voices said rude
things in French. Then bayonets made their appearance, and soldiers,
hot and breathing hard after their steeplechase across the German
trenches, pulled the officers from their beds with scant respect,
informing them briefly that they were prisoners. This was the first
intimation which the stupefied officers received that the enemy had
broken through their lines.

They seemed to have had an excessive confidence in the strength of
their first line, and the interruption of telephonic communications
had prevented their being informed of the rapid French advance. Then
as to the disposition and employment of reserves: Here it looks as
though that perfect organization and semi-infallible precision which
characterize the German army had, for the nonce, gone awry in the
Champagne conflict. In order to make up for the insufficiency of the
local reserves the German military authorities had to put in line not
only the important units which they held at their disposal behind the
front (Tenth Corps brought back from Russia), but the local reserves
from other sectors (Soissons, Argonne, the Woevre, Alsace), which were
dispatched to Champagne one battalion after another, and even in
groups of double companies. Ill provided with food and munitions, the
reenforcements were pushed to battle on an unknown terrain without
indication as to the direction they had to take and without their
junction with neighboring units having been arranged. Through the
haste with which the reserves were thrown under the fire of the French
artillery and infantry--already in possession of the positions--the
German losses must have been increased enormously. A letter taken from
a soldier of the 118th Regiment may be cited as corroborative
evidence: "We were put in a motor car and proceeded at a headlong pace
to Tahure, by way of Vouziers. Two hours' rest in the open air with
rain falling, and then we had a six hours' march to take up our
positions. On our way we were greeted by the fire of the enemy shells,
so that, for instance, out of 280 men of the second company only 224
arrived safe and sound inside the trenches. These trenches, freshly
dug, were barely thirty-five to fifty centimeters (12 to 17 in.) deep.
Continually surrounded by mines and bursting shells, we had to remain
in them and do the best we could with them for 118 hours without
getting anything hot to eat. Hell itself could not be more terrible.
To-day, at about 12 noon, 600 men, fresh troops, joined the regiment.
In five days we had lost as many and more."

The disorder in which the reenforcements were engaged appears strongly
from this fact: On only that part of the front included between
Maisons de Champagne and Hill 189 there were on October 2, 1915, no
fewer than thirty-two different battalions belonging to twenty-one
different regiments. During the days following the French rush
through the first line, the Germans seemed to have but one idea, to
strengthen their second line to stem the advance. Their counterattacks
were concentrated on a comparatively unimportant part of the battle
front in certain places, the loss of which appeared to them to be
particularly dangerous. Therefore on the heights of Massiges the
German military authorities hurled in succession isolated battalions
of the 123d, 124th and 120th regiments; of the Thirtieth Regular
Regiment and of the Second Regiment Ersatz Reserve (Sixteenth Corps),
which were in turn decimated, for these counterattacks, hastily and
crudely prepared, all ended in sanguinary failures. It was not the men
who failed their leaders, for they fought like tigers when reasonable
opportunities were offered them.

That strong offensive capacity of the Germans seemed also, on the
occasion, to have broken down. General von Ditfurth's order of the day
bears witness to this: "It seemed to me that the infantry at certain
points was confining its action to a mere defensive.... I cannot
protest too strongly against such an idea, which necessarily results
in destroying the spirit of offensive in our own troops and in
arousing and strengthening in the mind of the enemy a feeling of his
superiority. The enemy is left full liberty of action and our action
is subjected to the will of the enemy."

It is of course impossible to estimate precisely what the German
losses were. There are certain known details, however, which may serve
to indicate their extent. One underofficer declared that he was the
only man remaining out of his company. A soldier of the third
battalion of the 123d Regiment, engaged on the 26th, stated that his
regiment was withdrawn from the front after only two days' fighting
because its losses were too great. The 118th Regiment relieved the
158th Regiment in the trenches after it had been reduced to fifteen or
twenty men per company. Certain units disappeared completely, as for
instance the Twenty-seventh Reserve Regiment and the Fifty-second
Regular Regiment, which, by the evening of the 25th, had left in
French hands the first 13 officers and 933 men, and the other 21
officers and 927 men. Certain figures may help to arrive at the total
losses. At the beginning of September, 1915, the German strength on
the Champagne front amounted to seventy battalions. In anticipation of
a French attack they brought there, before the 25th, another
twenty-nine battalions, making a total of ninety-nine battalions.
Reckoning the corresponding artillery and pioneer formations, this
would represent 115,000 men directly engaged. The losses due to the
artillery preparation and the first attacks were such that from
September 25 to October 15, 1915, the German General Staff was
compelled to renew its effectives almost in their entirety by sending
out ninety-three fresh battalions. It is assumed that the units
engaged on September 25-26, 1915, suffered losses amounting to from
sixty to eighty per cent (even more for certain corps which had
entirely disappeared). The new units brought into line for the
counterattacks, and subjected in connection with these to an incessant
bombardment, lost fifty per cent of their effectives, if not more.
Hence it would be hardly overstating the case to set down 140,000 men
as the sum of the German losses in Champagne. It must also be taken
into account that of this number the proportion of slightly wounded
men able to recuperate quickly and return to the front was, in the
case of the Germans, very much below the average proportion of other
engagements, for they were unable to collect their wounded. Thus
nearly the whole of the troops defending the first position fell into
French hands.

After recounting the losses of one side, let us turn to analyze the
gains of the other. The French had penetrated the German lines on a
front of over fifteen miles, and to a depth of two and a half miles in
some places, between Auberive and Ville-sur-Tourbe. The territorial
gains may be thus summarized: The troops of the Republic had scaled
the whole of the glacis of the Épine de Vedegrange; they occupied the
ridge of the hollow at Souain; debouched in the opening to the north
of Perthes to the slopes of Hill 195 and as far as the Butte de
Tahure; carried the western bastions of the curtain of le Mesnil;
advanced as far as Maisons de Champagne and took by assault the "hand"
of Massiges. The territory they had reconquered from the invaders
represented an area of about forty square kilometers. On and from
October 7, 1915, they beat back the furious efforts of the Germans to
regain the lost ground. Nevertheless, in spite of the utmost
resolution on the part of commanders, and of valor on the part of the
French troops, the Germans were not completely overthrown, and the
annihilating results expected from the action of the mass of troops
and guns employed were not attained. It was a victory, but an
indecisive one.

On October 5, 1915, General Joffre issued the following manifesto from
Grand Headquarters:

"The Commander in Chief addresses to the troops under his orders the
expression of his profound satisfaction at the results obtained up to
the present day by the attacks. Twenty-five thousand prisoners, three
hundred and fifty guns, a quantity of material which it has not yet
been possible to gauge, are the trophies of a victory the echo of
which throughout Europe indicates its importance.

"The sacrifices willingly made have not been in vain. All have been
able to take part in the common task. The present is a sure guarantee
to us of the future.

"The Commander in Chief is proud to command the finest troops France
has ever known."




CHAPTER IX

THE BRITISH FRONT IN ARTOIS


Ever since August 16, 1915, a persistent and almost continuous
bombardment of the German lines had been carried out by the French
and, to a less extent, by the British and Belgian artillery. The
allied gunners appear to have distributed their favors quite
impartially. There was nothing in the action taken to direct attention
to one sector more than to another. The Vosges, the Meurthe and
Moselle, Lorraine and the Woevre, the Argonne, Champagne, the Aisne,
the Somme, the Arras sector, Ypres and the Yser, and the Belgian coast
where the British navy had joined in, all were subjected to a heavy,
deliberate and effective fire from guns of all calibers. As in
Champagne, the rate of fire quickened up on September 22, 1915. Great
concentrations of guns had been made at various points, and enormous
quantities of shells had been collected in readiness for the attack.
But the artillery preparation which immediately preceded that attack
in the west was of a most terrific description. Shortly after midnight
and in the early hours of Saturday morning, September 25, 1915, the
German positions were treated to a bombardment that had rarely been
equaled in violence. From the Yser Canal down to the end of the French
line the Allies' guns took up the note, and soon the whole of the
allied line was thundering and reechoing with the infernal racket. The
German lines became smothered in dust and smoke, their parapets simply
melted away, their barbed-wire entanglements disappeared. Those
sleeping thirty or forty miles away were awakened in the night by the
dull rumbling. The whole atmosphere was choked with the noise, and so
it continued throughout the day with hardly an interval. As if in
anticipation of the coming onslaught the German artillery had also
raised the key of its fire to a higher pitch several days before.

Simultaneously with the attack in Champagne, Sir John French assumed
the offensive on the British front. The main British attack was
directed in the neighborhood of Lens, against Prince Rupprecht of
Bavaria. While the French troops were rushing the German first line in
Champagne, the British troops executed a precisely similar movement
south of La Bassée Canal to the east of Grenay and Vermelles. With the
first rush they captured the German trenches on a front of five miles,
penetrating the lines in some places to a distance of 4,000 yards.
They conquered the western outskirts of Hulluch, the village of Loos,
with the mining works around it, and Hill 70. They lost the quarries
northwest of Hulluch again, but retook them on the following day.
Other attacks were made north of the La Bassée Canal, which drew
strong German reserves toward these points of the lines, where hard
fighting occurred throughout the day with fluctuating success. The
British also made another attack on Hooge on either side of the Menin
road. The assault north of the road yielded the Bellewaarde Farm and
ridge, but the Germans subsequently recaptured this part. South of the
road the attack gained about 600 yards of German trench. The British
took 2,600 prisoners, eighteen guns and thirty machine guns in the
first day. The Fourth British Army Corps, under Sir Henry Rawlinson,
had thus taken Loos and overrun Hill 70, a mile to the east, and even
penetrated to Cité St. Auguste. The Fifth Corps, under Sir Hubert
Gough, on the left, had stormed the quarries, taken Cité St. Elie, and
occupied a portion of the village of Haisnes. But the First Army, in
its attack, had not kept adequate reserves on hand; and those at first
at the disposal of the general in chief, which had to serve the whole
front and to be kept in hand in case of unexpected events, came up too
late to enable the British to hold and consolidate all the ground they
had won. The Ypres-Arras sector had been more formidably fortified
than any other portion of the German front. It is an extremely thickly
populated neighborhood, and the terrain is full of difficulties. It
could not be expected that an advance here, at least from the outset,
could be as rapid as that in Champagne. Whereas in the latter it was a
fight for rivers, ridges and woods, in the close country north of
Arras the struggle raged in and around villages, houses, and for some
particular trench that had to be taken before the French and British
could enter the great plain that stretches down to Lille. Every house
along that part had been converted into a fortress. When the
superstructure had been blown to pieces by shell fire, pioneers
burrowed thirty or fifty feet below the cellars and thus held on to
the position.

To the right of the British in Artois, the French infantry attack was
directed toward the forest of Hache. Only eighty or ninety yards
separated the French from the German trenches, and the French
infantry, which attained its objective in a few minutes, found the
trenches a mass of ruins and almost deserted, and the Germans
retreating into the wood. The first wave of attackers followed in
pursuit, but they reached the second line of trenches, situated in the
middle of the wood, without meeting any Germans in considerable force.
They pushed on to the eastern edge of the wood, but the Germans again
put up no defense, and their third-line trenches, on the fringe of the
wood, were likewise taken. Then came a halt in the advance. The German
commander pulled his men together and, with the reserves which had
come up in the meantime, launched a counterattack against the French,
who had quickly established themselves in their newly captured
positions. Heavy shells, high explosives and shrapnel were raining in
the trenches occupied by the French, and but for the new steel helmets
which had recently been supplied, the casualties would have been
enormous. One man's helmet was split clean across the crown by a shell
splinter, but the man escaped with merely a scratch. The Germans came
on in close formations, hurling grenades as they marched. The
atmosphere of the wood became almost insupportable with the smoke.
Finally, the French hurled a veritable torrent of grenades, which
drove the Germans back and compelled them to withdraw across the River
Souchez. Boise Hache was entirely won.

The British attack between La Bassée and Lens and the French attack on
the Souchez side were admirably coordinated, and were directed mainly
to assist the French to gain the heights west of Vimy, which were the
unattained object of their efforts during May and June. By September
27, 1915, the French had all Souchez in their hands, and were
advancing upon Givenchy. The capture of the Vimy heights was an item
of the highest importance, for to the eastward of them all the ground
was commanded by their fire, and the chances were that the Germans
would fall back on Douai and on the line of the Lille-Douai Canal,
once they were pushed off the high ground. In the Argonne the German
Crown Prince carried out desperate attacks against the French
first-line trenches at La Fille Morte and Bolante. These the French
repulsed with heavy losses to the Germans, whose dead lay piled in
heaps in front of the positions.

One result of the British attack was the hurried recall of the active
Corps of Prussian Guards from the eastern front--an important relief
to the hard-pressed Russians. This famous corps was at the time split
up into three groups; the active corps was with Mackensen in Galicia
and in the advance upon Brest-Litovsk. It was transferred to the Dvina
after the fall of Brest, and had since been engaged before Dvinsk. The
Reserve Guard Corps was in the central group of the German armies, and
the other, the Third Division, was still in Galicia. The British and
the Prussian Guards had made each other's acquaintance in the Battle
of Ypres.

[Illustration: The French Gains in the Artois Region, September,
1915.]

At the end of the month Haisnes, on the northern flank of the new
British line, was still for the greater part in German possession; on
the right flank the British were across the Lens-La Bassée road. The
British had captured not only the first position of their enemy, but
also a second or supporting line which ran west of Loos. They were now
up against the third line. Sir John French reported having taken so
far over 3,000 prisoners, twenty-one guns, and forty machine guns. The
French in Artois had taken a matter of 15,000 prisoners and a number
of guns. After obstinate day and night fighting they had reached Hill
140, the culminating point of the crests of Vimy, and the orchards to
the south. The crown prince still plugged away on this front with
heavy artillery and aerial torpedoes. Columns of flames began to issue
from his trenches on September 27, 1915--the inflammable liquid
appeared to be a composition of tar and petrol--and the smoke and
flames, carried by the wind blowing from the German trenches, soon
reached the French line and made the atmosphere intolerably hot and
suffocating for the French troops. Then suddenly out of the thick
fumes began to appear German infantry with fixed bayonets, sent
forward to the attack. They were literally mown down by the fire from
the French machine guns and rifles, but the wave of attackers seemed
unending, and by dint of overwhelming numbers it poured into the
French trenches. A terrible hand-to-hand fight then ensued in an
atmosphere so thick that it was difficult to distinguish friend from
foe. These clouds were not poisonous, for the Germans had themselves
to fight in them; they were let loose to cover the infantry charge.

The French were compelled to retire, which they did, contesting every
foot of ground. Meanwhile, reenforcements had arrived and these were
at once thrown into the fighting line. The French, however, were soon
brought to a halt. Asphyxiating and lachrymatory bombs, which emitted
bluish smoke as they exploded, began to fall in their midst. Spurred
on by their leaders the men dashed on, passing through yet another of
these barriers of smoke until they came to grips with the attackers,
who were now coming on like a torrent, in close formation, shouting
wildly. Altogether, the scene was one that vividly brings to the
imagination the truth of Sherman's dictum that "war is hell." A mad
potpourri of dimly visible forms, struggling like demons, shooting,
stabbing, hacking and roaring in an infernal caldron of tar, poison,
sulphur, tears and blood. Truly a worthy theme for another Dante and a
Gustave Doré. For some time it looked as if the French would be
crumpled up, but reserves were steadily streaming in, and eventually
the attackers began to waver and fall back. The French 75-millimeter
Creusots came into play again, and after a battle that lasted in all
twenty-four hours, the Germans were driven back to their own trenches.

In the morning of October 2, 1915, the Germans made a demonstration in
front of the Belgian trenches at Dixmude, consisting of a bombardment
and a violent discharge of bombs. On one small section alone 400 bombs
were dropped. The German infantry broke into the Belgian trenches, but
were dislodged again in a few minutes.

The position which the British had captured was exceptionally strong,
consisting of a double line, including some large redoubts and a
network of trenches and bomb-proof shelters. Dugouts were constructed
at short intervals all along the line, some of them being large caves
thirty feet below the ground. The French capture of Souchez was an
event of considerable importance, for the German High Command had
issued orders for this section to hold on to the last, that it was to
be retained at all costs. The road to the Douai plain was to be barred
to the French, who had to be held back behind the advanced works of
the Artois plateau. In May, 1915, the problem was to prevent the
French setting foot on the summits of Notre Dame de Lorette and of the
Topart Mill. The Germans sacrificed many thousands of men with this
object, but the French nevertheless made themselves masters of the
heights which the Germans considered of capital importance, and
dislodged them from Carency and Ablain-St. Nazaire. There remained
only one stage to cover--the Souchez Valley--to reach the last crest
which dominated the whole country to the east, and beyond which the
ground is flat. This task had been accomplished during the last few
days of September and the beginning of October. Souchez and its
advanced bastion, the Château Carleul, had been made into a formidable
fortification by the changing of the course of the Carency streams.
The Germans had transformed the marshy ground to the southeast of this
front into a perfect swamp, which was regarded as impassable. The
German batteries posted at Angres were able to enfilade the valley on
the north. From behind the crest of Hill 119 to Hill 140, which were
covered with trenches connected by a network of communication
trenches, many batteries were engaged against the French in the
district of Notre Dame de Lorette, Ablain-St. Nazaire and Carency. To
the north of Souchez the German trenches were still clinging to the
Notre Dame de Lorette slope.

The attack of September 25, 1915, was to overcome all these obstacles.
The artillery preparation, which lasted five days, was so skillfully
handled that, even before it was finished, many German deserters came
into the French lines declaring that they had had enough. The infantry
attack was delivered at noon on September 25, 1915, and with one rush
the French troops reached the objectives which had been marked out for
them--the château and grounds of Carleul and the islet south of
Souchez. Meanwhile, other detachments carried the cemetery and forced
their way to the first slopes of Hill 119. On the left the French
troops advanced down the slopes of Notre Dame de Lorette and made a
dash at the Hache Wood, the western outskirts of which they reached
twenty minutes after the attack began. The capture of the wood has
already been described. The French attack on the right, being held up
by machine-gun fire, could not be maintained in the cemetery, and it
was decided to approach Souchez by the main road so that they might
pour in their forces on the east, while, to the north, the French
force that had bitten its way into the Hache Wood was to continue its
advance. This maneuver decided the day. The Germans, who were in
danger of being cut off in Souchez, abandoned their positions, and
those who had retaken the cemetery, being in the same perilous
circumstances, regained by their communication trenches their second
line on the slopes of Hill 119. Thus fell Souchez to the French in two
days. The allied offensive was a short and sharp affair, skillfully
planned and bravely executed, but disappointing in result. At the
great price of 50,000 casualties the British had overthrown the
Germans on a front of five miles, and in some places to a depth of
4,000 yards, and had captured many prisoners and guns; but they had
not definitely broken the German lines. At a heavy cost the Allies on
the western front had captured about 160 German guns and disposed of
150,000 Germans, including some 27,000 prisoners, and the result of
their efforts was to shake the Germans in the west very severely and
to call back to France many troops from the eastern front. That the
blow was regarded by the kaiser as a serious one was shown by an Order
of the Day in which he declared that every important success obtained
by the Allies on the western front "will be considered as due to the
culpable negligence of the German commanders, who will lay themselves
open to being punished for incompetence." But if the Allies' successes
were due to hard fighting and brilliant dash, the fact that they did
not break right through the enemy's lines is an eloquent testimony to
the wonderful strength of the German resistance. The marvel was that
any were left alive in the first line after the preliminary
bombardment to face the bayonets and grenades of the attackers. In a
report from German General Headquarters, dated September 29, 1915, Max
Osborn, special correspondent of the "Vossische Zeitung," described
how the French artillery swept the hinterland of the German positions
in Champagne and then concentrated upon these. "The violence of the
fire then reached its zenith. Hitherto it had been a raging, searching
fire; now it became a mad drumming, beyond all power of imagination.
It is impossible to convey any idea of the savagery of this
bombardment. Never has this old planet heard such an uproar. An
officer who had witnessed during the summer the horrors of Arras, of
Souchez, and of the Lorette Heights, told me that those were not in
any way to be compared with the present, beyond all conception,
appalling artillery onslaught. Day and night for fifty hours, at some
points for seventy hours, the guns vomited destruction and murder
against the Germans, the German trenches and against the German
batteries. Strongly built trenches were covered in and ground to
powder; their edges and platforms were shorn off and converted into
dust heaps; men were buried, crushed, and inevitably suffocated--but
the survivors stood fast." A German soldier told how, in the fierce
hand-to-hand fighting which followed, a Frenchman and a German flew at
each other's throat, and how they fell, both pierced by the same
bullet, still locked in each other's grip. And so, too, they were
buried. Courage is not the monopoly of any race or nation.




CHAPTER X

THE BATTLE OF LOOS


At 5.50 a. m. on September 25, 1915, a dense, heavy cloud arose slowly
from the earth--a whitish, yellowish, all-enveloping cloud that rolled
slowly toward the German trenches--a little too much to the north.
Thousands of German bullets whistled through that cloud, but it passed
on, unheeding. The attack began at 6.30.

A Scottish division had been ordered to take Loos and Hill 70. It
therefore played the first rôle in the battle, since it was on Loos,
of which Hill 70 is the gateway, that the efforts of all converged
from the north as well as the south. Brigade "X" of the Scottish
division was to execute an enveloping movement to the north around
Loos and to carry Hill 70 by storm. Brigade "Y" meanwhile was to
attack the Loos front, Brigade "Z" remaining in reserve. By 7.05 a. m.
the whole of the first line was captured. The second line, covering
Loos, was carried with the same ease. The Germans, taken by surprise,
were fleeing toward Loos, where they put up a stern rear-guard fight,
and toward Lens, which was strongly fortified.

After the capture of the second line in front of Loos, "X" and "Y"
Brigades separated, "Y" surrounding the village with two battalions,
while the rest captured the village and cleaned it up. It was stiff
street fighting, the Germans being hidden away in all sorts of corners
with plenty of machine guns. The Scots made a quick job of it, not
stopping for trifles. It is related that a sergeant, to whom two
Germans had surrendered, pulled a few pieces of string from his
pocket, tied their hands together, and passed them to the rear with
the request, "Please forward." Brigade "X" had meanwhile thrown its
enveloping net around Loos without meeting much resistance. The
British had reached the top of Hill 70 by nine o'clock. The climb was
a hard and rough accomplishment, with the right flank under
mitrailleuse fire from Loos, and with the left exposed to fire from
Pit 14A; but it was accomplished far too quickly. Serious disasters
frequently occur in war through tardiness; in this case a possible
great victory was missed through being too quick and arriving too
early. When the brigadier got up to Loos he saw his men vanishing in
the distance. A strong German redoubt, over the other side of the hill
crest, was not even defended. The brigade crossed the Lens-La Bassée
road, which runs along the height, carried the third German line on
the opposite slope, and at 9.20 it was outside St. Auguste.
Unfortunately for the British, the corps commander, who arrived at
this moment with his staff in hot haste, was unable to get his unit in
hand again. Overflowing with offensive ardor, he had thrown his men
forward with a most impetuous movement, and they got out of hand. The
brigade turned at right angles and got into the suburbs of Lens. It
seemed as though the gates of the northern plain were about to be
smashed in. Then the great danger appeared. There was still no great
converging movement from the south, where a British division and
French troops were engaged. Touch was also lost to the north. The
neighboring division in this direction was held up until the afternoon
by wire entanglements. The left flank of the brigade was at the mercy
of a German counterattack, but the Germans did not launch it, for they
had not the men. What they did, however, was to concentrate on the
brigade a murderous fire from Loos in the south, Lens in the east, St.
Auguste in the north, and Pit 14A and two or three neighboring houses
in the west. They were even seen hastily installing machine guns along
the railway embankment northeast of Lens.

Shattered by fire, uncertain of its direction, shaken by the very
quickness of its previous advance, the brigade hesitated, sowed the
ground with its dead, and retired in good order on Hill 70, where it
intrenched slightly below the redoubt abandoned by the Germans during
the attack and which was now reoccupied by them. As a matter of fact,
the screening gas clouds hindered rather than helped the attack. The
Scottish division was exhausted, but if fresh troops had come up and a
fresh attack had been delivered against the Germans, who were
gathering all their men in the Douai region, the German front would
undoubtedly have been pierced like cardboard. Brigade "X" had made a
path, and if only reenforcements had arrived without delay the path
would have become a highroad--would have become the whole of Douai
plain. Not until nightfall were the reserves forthcoming. It is
evident that, in this first day, advantage was not taken of the
results achieved.

Though long-range fighting was incessantly kept up around Loos,
nothing of importance happened till October 8, 1915, when the Germans,
after an intense bombardment with shells of all calibers, launched a
violent attack on Loos and made desperate efforts to recapture their
lost positions. The main efforts were directed against the chalk pit
north of Hill 70, and between Hulluch and the Hohenzollern redoubt. In
the chalk pit attack, the Germans assembled behind some woods which
lay from 300 to 500 yards from the British trenches. Between these
woods and the British line the attacking force was mown down by
combined rifle, machine-gun and artillery fire, not a man getting
within forty yards of the trenches.

Farther to the south, between Hulluch and the quarries, the attack was
also repelled, the British securing a German trench west of Cité St.
Elie. The Germans did succeed in penetrating the British front in the
southern communication trench of the Hohenzollern redoubt, but were
shortly after expelled again by British bombers.

British flying men played an important part in the Battle of Loos and
in the preparations that preceded it. Troops and guns had to be moved
at night so that the German aeroplanes might not note the
concentration. Hence it was decided that British aeros should warn off
the German flyers by day. They probably outnumbered the German
machines by eight to one. As the attack proceeded a flock of
aeroplanes was cutting circles and dipping and turning over the battle
field as if in an exhibition of airmanship. They appeared to be
disconnected from the battle, but no participants were more busy or
intent than they. All the panorama of action was beneath them; they
alone could really "see" the battle if they chose. But each aviator
stole only passing glimpses of the whole, for each one was intent on
his part, which was to keep watch of whether the shells of the battery
to which he reported were on the target or not. To distinguish whose
shell-burst was whose in the midst of that cloud of dust and smoke
over the German positions seemed as difficult as to separate the spout
of steam of one pipe from another when a hundred were making a wall of
vapor. Yet so skilled is the well-trained airman that he can tell at a
glance. It is not difficult to spot shells when only a few batteries
are firing, but when perhaps a hundred guns are dropping shells on a
half-mile front of trench, a highly trained eye is required.
Occasionally a plane was observed to sweep down like a hawk that had
located a fish in the water. At all hazards that intrepid aviator was
going to identify the shell-bursts of the batteries which he
represented. The enemy might have him in rifle range, but they were
too busy trying to hold up the British infantry to fire at him. Other
aeroplanes were dropping shells on railway trains and bridges, to
hinder the Germans, once they had learned where the force of the
attack was to be exerted, from rushing reenforcements to the spot. For
that kind of work, as for all reconnaissances, the aviators like
low-lying clouds. They slip down out of these to have a look around
and drop a bomb--thus killing two birds with one stone--and then rise
to cover before the enemy can bring his antiaircraft guns to bear.

[Illustration: German infantry storming a hill in the Argonne. The men
bend low for safety, though pressing eagerly forward toward the
enemy's lines.]

A German description of the Battle of Loos says that during the
preliminary gas attack the British artillery was hurling gas bombs
upon the Germans. The latter coughed and held their ground as long as
they could, but many fell, unable to resist the fumes. In the midst of
all this the Germans were preparing for the expected infantry attack.
Finally the British appeared, emerging suddenly as if from nowhere,
behind a cloud of gas, and wearing masks. They came on in thick lines
and storming columns. The first line of the attackers were quickly
shot down by the hail of rifle and machine-gun bullets that rained
upon them from the shattered German trenches. The dead and wounded
soon lay like a wall before the German position. The second and third
lines of the British suffered the same fate. It was estimated that the
number of British killed before this German division alone amounted to
8,000 to 10,000. The fourth line of attackers, however, finally
succeeded in overrunning the decimated front line of Germans, who
stood by their guns to the very last; those of them who had not fallen
were made prisoners. Not one of them returned to tell what happened in
this terrific fighting. The British are stated to have attacked in an
old-fashioned, out-of-date manner that made the German staff officers
stare in open-mouthed wonder. "Eight ranks of infantry, mounted
artillery, cavalry in the background--that was too much! A veritable
battle plan of a past age, the product of a mind in its dotage, and
half a century behind the times! Splendidly, with admirable courage,
the English troops came forward to the attack. They were young, wore
no decorations; they carried out with blind courage what their senile
commanders ordered--and this in a period of mortars, machine guns
and the telephone. Their behavior was splendid, but all the more
pitiable was the breakdown of their attack."

[Illustration: The Battle at Loos.]

Connected with the Battle of Loos there was one little person who
deserves a chapter in history--all to herself--and that is Mlle.
Émilienne Moreau, a young French girl who lived--and probably still
lives--with her parents in the storm-battered village of Loos. She was
seventeen years of age at the time she became famous, and was studying
to be a school-teacher. She was "mentioned in dispatches" in the
French Official Journal in these terms:

"On September 25, 1915, when the British troops entered the village of
Loos, she organized a first-aid station in her house and worked day
and night to bring in the wounded, to whom she gave all assistance,
while refusing to accept any reward. Armed with a revolver she went
out and succeeded in overcoming two German soldiers who, hidden in a
near-by house, were firing at the first-aid station."

This, however, was not a complete list of the exploits of la petite
Moreau. She shot two Germans when their bayonets were very close to
her, and later, snatching some hand bombs from a British grenadier's
stock, she accounted for three more who were busy at the same
occupation. Furthermore, "when the British line was wavering under the
most terrible cyclone of shells ever let loose upon earth, Émilienne
Moreau sprang forward with a bit of tricolored bunting in her hand and
the glorious words of the 'Marseillaise' on her lips, and by her
fearless example averted a retreat that might have meant disaster
along the whole front. Only the men who were in that fight can fully
understand why Sir Douglas Haig was right in christening her the Joan
of Arc of Loos."

A more mature French Amazon is Madame Louise Arnaud, the widow of an
officer killed in the war. She commanded a corps of French and Belgian
women who were permitted by the War Minister to don uniforms. The
corps was intended for general service at the front, one-third of them
being combatants, all able to ride, shoot and swim.

After the great allied offensive in the west had spent its force--or
rather the force of its initial momentum--quite an interesting battle
broke out, this time on paper. It consisted on the one side of an
attempt to estimate the results of success and to attach to them the
highest possible value. The energy of the other side was devoted to
belittling these results and proclaiming the alleged futility of the
venture. Thus, King George telegraphed to Sir John French on September
30, 1915:

"I heartily congratulate you and all ranks of my army under your
command upon the success which has attended their gallant efforts
since the commencement of the combined attack."

Lord Kitchener sent this message:

"My warmest congratulations to you and all serving under you on the
substantial success you have achieved...."

In his report of October 3, 1915, General French stated that "The
enemy has suffered heavy losses, particularly in the many
counterattacks by which he has vainly endeavored to wrest back the
captured positions, but which have all been gallantly repulsed by our
troops.... I feel the utmost confidence and assurance that the same
glorious spirit which has been so marked a feature throughout the
first phase of this great battle will continue until our efforts are
crowned by final and complete victory."

The following sentence is culled from the French official report on
the fighting in Champagne:

"... Germans surrendered in groups, even though not surrounded, so
tired were they of the fight, and so depressed by hunger and convinced
of our determination to continue our effort to the end...."

Rather contradictory in tone and substance were the German dispatches:

"The German General Staff recently invited a number of newspaper men
from neutral countries--the United States, South America, Holland, and
Rumania--to inspect the fighting line in the west during time of
battle.... They are thus enabled to verify the reports from the German
headquarters concerning this greatest and most fearful battle fought
on the western front since the beginning of the war. They are,
accordingly, in a position to state that exaggerated statements are
made in the reports from French headquarters, and to confirm the facts
that the Germans were outnumbered several times by the French; that
the French suffered terrific and unheard-of losses, in spite of
several days of artillery preparation; that the French attacks failed
altogether, as none of them attained the expected result, and that the
encircling movement of General Joffre is without tangible result."
"The world presently shall see the pompously advertised grand
offensive broken by the iron will of our people in arms.... They are
welcome to try it again if they like." "French and English storming
columns in unbroken succession roll up against the iron wall
constituted by our heroic troops. As all hostile attacks have hitherto
been repulsed with gigantic losses, particularly for the English, the
whole result of the enemy's attack, lasting for days, is merely a
denting in of our front in two places...." Who shall decide when
doctors disagree?




CHAPTER XI

THE CAVELL CASE--ACCIDENT TO KING GEORGE


On October 15, 1915, the United States Ambassador in London informed
the British Foreign Office that Miss Edith Cavell, lately the head of
a large training school for nurses in Brussels, had been executed by
the German military authorities of that city after sentence of death
had been passed on her. It was understood that the charge against Miss
Cavell was that she had harbored fugitive British and French soldiers
and Belgians of military age, and had assisted them to escape from
Belgium in order to join the colors. Miss Cavell was the daughter of a
Church of England clergyman, and was trained as a nurse at the London
Hospital. On the opening of the École Beige d'Infirmières Diplomées,
Brussels, in 1907, she was appointed matron of the school. She went
there with a view to introduce into Belgium British methods of
nursing and of training nurses. Those who knew Miss Cavell were
impressed by her strength of character and unflinching devotion. She
could have returned to England in September, 1914, shortly after the
outbreak of the war, when seventy English nurses were able to leave
Belgium through the influence of the United States Minister, but she
chose to remain at her post. The "execution," which was accompanied by
several unpleasant features, raised a great outcry of public
indignation not only throughout the British Empire, but also in most
neutral countries. That indignation rose to a still higher pitch when,
on October 22, 1915, the report on the case, by Mr. Brand Whitlock,
United States Minister in Belgium, was published in the press. From
the report it appeared, what the world had hitherto been ignorant of,
that Mr. Whitlock had made the most strenuous efforts to save the
unfortunate lady from death. His humanitarian labors in that direction
were strongly seconded by the Spanish Minister in Brussels.

Miss Cavell's mother, a widow, residing at Norwich, received the
following letter of sympathy from the king and queen:

                                                   "Buckingham Palace,
                                                    "October 23, 1915.

"Dear Madam:

"By command of the King and Queen I write to assure you that the
hearts of their Majesties go out to you in your bitter sorrow, and to
express their horror at the appalling deed which has robbed you of
your child. Men and women throughout the civilized world, while
sympathizing with you, are moved with admiration and awe at her faith
and courage in death.

"Believe me, dear Madam,

                                          "Yours very truly,
                                                        "STAMFORDHAM."

The report described how Mr. Hugh S. Gibson, the Secretary of the
American Legation, sought out the German Governor, Baron von der
Lancken, late at night before the execution, and, with the Spanish
Minister pleaded with him and the other German officers for the
Englishwoman's life. There was a reference to an apparent lack of
good faith on the part of the German authorities in failing to keep
their promise to inform the American Minister fully of the trial and
sentence. Mr. Whitlock's final appeal was a note sent to Von Lancken
late on the night of October 11, 1915, which read as follows:

"My dear Baron: I am too sick to present my request myself, but I
appeal to your generosity of heart to support it and save from death
this unhappy woman. Have pity on her.

                                               "Yours truly,
                                                     "BRAND WHITLOCK."

The next day Mr. Whitlock telegraphed to our Ambassador in London:
"Miss Cavell sentenced yesterday and executed at 2 o'clock this
morning, despite our best efforts, continued until the last moment."
The sentence had been confirmed and the execution ordered to be
carried out by General von Bissing, the German Governor General of
Belgium.

The British press drew an apposite parallel between the summary
execution of Miss Cavell in Belgium and the course taken in England in
the case of Mrs. Louise Herbert, a German, and the wife of an English
curate in Darlington. She had been sentenced to six months'
imprisonment as a spy. According to English criminal law every
condemned person is entitled to appeal against the sentence inflicted.
Mrs. Herbert availed herself of this indisputable right, and her
appeal was heard at Durham on October 20, 1915--eight days after the
execution of Miss Cavell. The female spy admitted that she had sought
information regarding munitions and intended to send this information
to Germany. She also admitted that she had corresponded with Germany
through friends in Switzerland. Here, according to military law, was a
certain case for the death sentence, which would undoubtedly have been
carried out in the Tower had the accused been a man. It must be borne
in mind that the Court of Appeals in England has the power to increase
a sentence as well as to reduce or quash it altogether. Astonished by
her frank answers, the judge remarked: "This woman has a
conscience--she wishes to answer truthfully and deserves credit for
that. At the same time, she is dangerous." He then gave judgment that
the sentence of six months' imprisonment should stand. No charge of
espionage was preferred against Miss Cavell. She was refused the
advocate Mr. Whitlock offered to provide her with, and the details of
the secret trial have not been made public.

Whatever may be the right or the wrong of the case, it is reasonably
safe to apply to it the famous dictum of Fouché on Napoleon's
execution of the Duc d'Enghien: "It is worse than a crime; it is a
blunder." It certainly had the effect of still further embittering the
enemies of Germany. Perhaps no incident of the great world war will be
more indelibly imprinted on the British mind than this. Many thousands
of young Englishmen who had hitherto held back rushed to join the
colors. "Edith Cavell Recruiting Meetings" were held all over the
United Kingdom. A great national memorial service was held in St.
Paul's Cathedral in London, where representatives of the king and
queen, statesmen, the nobility and thousands of officers and soldiers
attended. The Dowager Queen Alexandra, who is the patron of the great
institution now in course of erection and known as the "Queen
Alexandra Nurses' Training School," expressed the desire that her name
should give place to that of Miss Cavell, and that the institution
shall be called "The Edith Cavell Nurses' Training School."

Within a month of her death it had been decided to erect a statue to
the memory of Miss Cavell in Trafalgar Square. Sir George Frampton,
R.A., President of the Royal Society of British Sculptors, undertook
to execute the statue without charge.

The most permanent memorial of the death of Nurse Cavell will be a
snow-clad peak in the Rocky Mountains, which the Canadian Government
has decided to name "Mount Cavell." It is situated fifteen miles south
of Jasper, on the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway, near the border of
Alberta, at the junction of the Whirlpool and Athabasca Rivers, and
has a height of more than 11,000 feet.

A curious sequel followed the execution of Miss Cavell. Nearly three
months later, on January 6, 1916, a young Belgian was found shot dead
in Schaerbeek, a suburb of Brussels. The German authorities took the
matter in hand for investigation, but in the meantime General von
Bissing fined the city of Brussels 500,000 marks and the suburb of
Schaerbeek 50,000 marks on the plea that the murder had been committed
with a revolver, the Germans having ordered that all arms should be
surrendered at the town hall. But there was more in this affair than
an ordinary crime. The "Écho Belge," published in Amsterdam since the
German occupation of Belgium, revealed that the punitive action by the
German authorities was prompted by something other than an
infringement of the regulations. The body found was that of a certain
Niels de Rode, and he it was who denounced Miss Cavell and also
betrayed several Belgians--his own countrymen--who were trying to
cross the frontier to join the army. The "Écho Belge" asserted that De
Rode was executed by Belgian patriots to avenge the betrayal of Miss
Cavell. The anger of the German authorities was explained by the loss
of their informer.

On October 22, 1915, London was officially informed that "The king is
in France, where he has gone to visit his army. His majesty also hopes
to see some of the allied troops." This was not the king's first visit
to the battle line, and, as before, his departure from England and
arrival on the Continent had been kept a secret until he had reached
his destination. The king traveled by automobile from Havre to various
parts of the British and French lines, "somewhere in France,"
inspecting troops and visiting hospitals. The royal tour was brought
to a premature close on the morning of the 28th owing to an
unfortunate accident. The king had just finished the second of two
reviews of troops representing corps of the First Army when his horse,
frightened by the cheers of the men, reared and fell, and his majesty
was severely bruised. Twice the horse (a mare) reared up when the
soldiers burst suddenly into cheers at only a few yards' distance. The
first time the mare came down again on her forefeet, but the second
time she fell over and, in falling, rolled slightly on to the king's
leg. The announcement of the king's mishap came with dramatic
suddenness to the assembled officers and troops. The troops of the
corps which he had first inspected could hear from where they stood
the cheers of their comrades about a mile away, which told them that
the second review was over, and that the king would pass down the road
fronting them in a few minutes. The orders to raise their caps and
cheer were shouted to the men by the company officers, and then the
whole corps, with bayoneted rifles at the slope, advanced in brigade
order across the huge fallow field in which they had been drawn up to
within thirty yards or so of the road. In a few minutes a covered
green automobile was seen tearing down the road at full speed, and as
it drew up opposite the center of the corps the cheering began to
spread all along the line. In the enthusiasm of the moment the
majority did not notice that the car was not flying the royal
standard, and even when an officer, with the pink and white brassard
of an Army Corps Staff, jumped out of the car and began to shout hasty
instructions few realized their mistake and his words were carried
away down the tempestuous wind that raged at the time. Then the
officer hurried here and there calling out that the king had met with
an accident and that there was to be no cheering. A few of those in
the center caught his words, but the news had not spread to more than
a fraction of the whole body before the king's car drove past. A
curious spectacle now presented itself. Along one portion of the front
the men stood silently at attention, while their comrades on either
side of them, and yet other troops farther away down the road, were
raising their caps on their bayonets and cheering with true British
lustiness. Some could catch a glimpse of the king as his car dashed
swiftly by. He was sitting half-bent in the corner of the vehicle, and
his face wore a faint smile of acknowledgment. The king's injuries
proved to be worse than was at first supposed, necessitating his
removal to London on a stretcher.




CHAPTER XII

OPERATIONS IN CHAMPAGNE AND ARTOIS--PREPARATIONS FOR WINTER CAMPAIGN


By the middle of October operations on the western front centralized
almost entirely in the Champagne and Artois districts, where the
Germans, fully appreciating the menace to their lines created by the
results of the allied offensive, sought by continuous violent
counterattacks to recover the territory from which they had been
dislodged and to prevent the Allies from consolidating and
strengthening their gains. Their attacks in the Artois fell chiefly
between Hulluch and Hill 70, and southeast of Givenchy, against the
heights of Petit Vimy. The Germans succeeded in retaking small
sections of first-line trenches, but lost some of their new trenches
in return. Whereas the Allies held practically all they had gained,
the Germans were considerably the losers by the transaction. The
British attempted to continue their offensive by driving between Loos
and Hulluch, the most important and at the same time the most
dangerous section on the British front. By steadily forging ahead
southeast of Loos toward Hill 70, the British were driving a wedge
into the German line and creating a perilous salient around the town
of Angres as the center. To obviate the danger from counterattacks
against the sides of the salient, the British endeavored to flatten
out the point of the wedge by capturing more ground north of Hill 70
toward Hulluch. To some extent the plan succeeded; they advanced east
of the Lens-La Bassée road for about 500 yards, an apparently
insignificant profit, but it had the effect of strengthening the
British position.

Uninterrupted fighting in Champagne had made little difference to
either side, save that the French had managed to straighten out their
line somewhat, though they were by no means nearer to their desired
goal--the Challerange-Bazancourt railway. If that could be taken, the
Germans facing them would be cut off from the crown prince's army
operating in the Argonne. Bulgaria had meanwhile entered the conflict
and started the finishing campaign of Serbia with the assistance of
her Teutonic allies.

Between October 19 and October 24, 1915, the Germans made eight
distinct attacks in the Souchez sector in Artois, attempting to loosen
the French grip on Hill 140. In this venture the First Bavarian Army
Corps was practically wiped out by terrible losses. Each attack was
reported to have been repulsed. Commenting on the same event, the
German report said that "... enemy advances were repulsed. Detachments
which penetrated our positions were immediately driven back." Both
sides of the battle line now settled down to the same round of seesaw
battles of the preceding midsummer; attacks and counterattacks;
trenches captured and recaptured; here a hundred yards won, there a
hundred yards lost. After almost every one of these events the three
headquarters issued statements to the effect that "the enemy was
repelled with heavy losses," or that some place or other had been
"recaptured by our troops." On October 24, 1915, the French in
Champagne made some important progress. In front of their (the French)
position the Germans occupied a very strongly organized salient which
had resisted all previous attacks. In its southwestern part, on the
northern slopes of Hill 196, at a point one and a quarter miles to the
north of Mesnil-les-Hurlus, this salient included a valuable strategic
position called La Courtine (The Curtain), which the French took after
some severe fighting. La Courtine extended for a distance of 1,200
yards with an average depth of 250 yards, and embracing three or four
lines of trenches connected up with underground tunnels and the
customary communication trenches, all of which had been thoroughly
prepared for defense. In spite of the excellence of these works and
the ferocious resistance of the German soldiers, the French succeeded
in taking this position by storm after preparatory artillery fire. On
the same day that this was announced, the Berlin report put it thus:
"In Champagne the French attacked near Tahure and against our salient
north of Le Mesnil, after a strong preparation with their artillery.
Near Tahure their attack was not carried out to its completion,
having been stopped by our fire. Late in the afternoon stubborn
fighting was in progress on the salient north of Le Mesnil. North and
east of this salient an attack was repulsed with severe French
losses."

The following two interesting reports were issued on October 27, 1915:

  _Paris_

  After having exploded in the neighborhood of the road from Arras to
  Lille ... a series of powerful mines which destroyed the German
  intrenchments ... our troops immediately occupied the excavations.
  They installed themselves there, notwithstanding a very violent
  bombardment and several counterattacks by the enemy, who suffered
  serious losses. We captured about 30 prisoners.

  _Berlin_

  After the explosion of a French mine on the Lille-Arras road an
  unimportant engagement developed, which went in our favor.

An important event happened in France on October 28, 1915, when the
Viviani Cabinet resigned, much to the general surprise of the nation.
The result of the change of government was that M. Aristide Briand,
one of the aggressive and militant members of the Socialist party,
succeeded as Premier and Foreign Secretary, M. de Freycinet became
Vice President of the Council, and General Gallieni Minister for War.
It was not a "political crisis," but a union of the parties--a
coalition, such as the British Government had already adopted. The
change implied a distribution of responsibility among the leading men
of all parties, a useful measure to stifle criticism and insure
unanimity of purpose. M. Viviani reentered the new Cabinet as Minister
of Justice. For the first time in the history of the French Republic a
coalition ministry of all the opposing factions was formed.

Some stir and much speculation was caused when General Joffre visited
London at the end of October and held another conference with Lord
Kitchener. It was generally understood that some scheme for central
military control was being promoted, to render quicker decisions and
coordinate action possible. It was obvious that matters of vital
interest had brought the French Generalissimo to London. Shortly
before his departure it leaked out that the British Government had for
some time contemplated the creation of a new General Staff composed of
experts to supervise the prosecution of the war, and it was believed,
perhaps with justification, that General Joffre had come to give his
opinion on the matter. On November 17, 1915, the first meeting of the
Anglo-French War Council was held in Paris. The British members in
attendance were the Prime Minister, Mr. Arthur James Balfour, First
Lord of the Admiralty; Mr. David Lloyd-George, Minister of Munitions,
and Sir Edward Grey, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. The
French participants were Premier Briand, General Gallieni, Admiral
Lacaze, Minister of Marine, and General Joffre.

At the beginning of November a temporary lull had set in on parts of
the western front, and the center of interest was for the time shifted
to the Balkans. The French and British seemed unable to continue their
offensive operations and were, for the most part, confined to their
trenches and such territory as they had wrested from the Germans
during September and early October. On October 30, 1915, the Germans
had again begun a series of determined offensives in Artois and
Champagne. They met with considerable success in the initial stages,
for on the morning of the 31st they had gained about 1,200 yards of
the French trenches near Neuville-St. Vaast and on the summit of the
Butte de Tahure, capturing 1,500 French soldiers. The struggle for the
Neuville trenches continued for days, during which the positions
changed hands at short intervals.

In Champagne the Germans, after a fresh artillery preparation, with
the employment of suffocating shells of large caliber, renewed their
attacks in the region to the north of Le Mesnil. They delivered four
successive assaults in the course of the day--the first at 6 a. m. on
the extreme east of La Courtine; the second at noon against Tahure;
the third at 2 p. m. to the south of the village, and the fourth at 4
p. m. against the ridges to the northeast. The French artillery,
however, checked their progress and compelled them to retire to their
trenches, leaving 356 unwounded prisoners with the French. Beyond
occasional artillery duels in the Dixmude-Ypres district, nothing of
importance happened on the Belgian front.

In the middle of November hard fighting was resumed on the Artois
front in the region of the Labyrinth, north of Arras, and continued
day and night, conducted chiefly with hand grenades. Artillery actions
raged in the Argonne forest, near Soissons, Berry-au-Bac, and on the
Belgian front. German activity in the Arras-Armentières sector was
regarded as prognosticating a big attack. While the Germans collected
men and munitions at one spot, the French and British, adopting
worrying tactics, suddenly descended and harassed them in another. A
successful little enterprise was carried out by a small party of
British troops during the night of November 16-17, 1915, with a loss
of one man killed and one wounded, just north of the river Douave,
southwest of Messines. They forced an entrance into the German front
trench after bayoneting thirty of the occupants. The party returned
with twelve German prisoners. About November 19-20, 1915, the heavy
artillery of the Allies battered the German trenches west of Ypres,
while their warships were shelling the coast fortifications at
Westende.

Between November 20 and 25, 1915, the British employed their time in
bombarding the German positions in several places, destroying wire
entanglements and parapets. The Germans made but little reply,
contenting themselves with holding tight to their trenches. They were
more active north of Loos, Ploegstreet, and east of Ypres. On the
evening of the 22d the Germans made a heavy bombing attack on a mine
crater held by the British south of the Bethune-La Bassée road, with
apparently inconclusive results. Constant mining operations were
resorted to by both sides, the British exploding one and occupying the
crater on the aforesaid road, and the Germans performing a similar
feat south of Cuinchy, severely damaging some British trenches. They
also exploded mines near Carnoy and Givenchy. A British aeroplane
squadron of twenty-three machines bombarded a German hut encampment at
Achiet le Grand, northeast of Albert. A single German aero ascended to
engage the attackers and deposited sundry bombs in the neighborhood of
Bray. In the Argonne forest artillery activity was more pronounced,
and a German ammunition depot in the Fille Morte region was destroyed.

A big fall of snow somewhat restricted operations in the Vosges,
especially in the region of the Fecht and Thur Rivers. On the Belgian
line a rather violent bombardment occurred in front of St. Heewege. To
the north of Dixmude and the cast of St. Jacques Capelle a retaliatory
fire was kept up for two days. The subjugated Belgians raised a voice
of protest against the German method of raising the war levies imposed
upon the country. They complained that, whereas Belgium had faithfully
carried out her share of the arrangement, the German Government was
indebted to the Belgians a matter of $12,000,000 for supplies that had
not been paid for. Nearly $100,000,000 had been exacted in tribute by
Germany from the occupied provinces of Belgium up to November 10,
1915, since which date the German Governor General had issued orders
for a monthly war tax of 40,000,000 francs ($8,000,000) until further
notice. Calculating that the Belgians in the occupied territory
numbered 6,000,000, this fresh levy meant that every man, woman, and
child would have to pay about $1.35 into the German war treasury every
month. This new levy order issued by Baron von Bissing differed in
some important particulars from the one issued a year previously. No
limit was referred to upon the expiration of which the tax should
cease; in the former order the period of a year was mentioned. Another
new clause was to the effect that the German Administration should
have the right to demand the payment in German money at the customary
rate in Brussels of 80 marks to 100 francs. This device probably aimed
at raising the rate of the mark abroad. That nine Belgian provinces
had hitherto been able regularly to pay these large monthly
installments was due to the fact that the provincial authorities
secured large support from the Société Générale de Belgique, which
bank expressed its readiness, on certain conditions, to lend money to
the provinces and make payments for them, these transactions, of
course, taking place under the supervision of the German authorities.
On the other hand, the Société Générale was granted by the Germans the
exclusive right to issue bank notes, which had hitherto been the
privilege of the Belgian National Bank.

The uninterrupted and intense activity along the front with grenades,
mines and heavy guns can be only vaguely described or even understood
from the brief chronicles of the official bulletins. This underground
warfare, to which only dry references are occasionally made, was
carried on steadily by day and by night. The mines, exploding at
irregular intervals along the lines, gave place to singular incidents
which rarely reached the public. Near Arras, in Artois, where sappers
largely displaced infantry, was related the story of two French
sappers, Mauduit and Cadoret, who were both decorated with the
Military Medal. The story of how they won this distinction is worth
repeating:

They had dug their way under and beyond German trenches when the
explosion of a German mine between the lines cut their gallery,
leaving them imprisoned in a space eight feet long. This happened at
ten in the morning. They determined to dig toward the surface and
encouraged each other by singing Breton songs in low tones while they
worked. The air became foul and they were almost suffocated. Their
candles went out and left them to burrow in absolute darkness. After
hours of intense labor the appearance of a glowworm told them that
they were near the surface. Then a fissure of the earth opened and
admitted a welcome draft of fresh air. The miners pushed out into the
clear starlight. Within arm's length they beheld the loophole of a
German trench and could hear German voices. The thought seems not to
have occurred to them to give themselves up, as they could easily have
done. Instead, they drew back and began to dig in another direction,
enduring still longer the distress which they had already undergone so
long without food or drink. After digging another day they came out
in the crater of a mine. The night was again clear and it was
impossible for them to show themselves without being shot by one side
or the other. So they decided to hold out for another night. They lay
inside the crater exposed to shells, bombs, and grenades from both
sides, eating roots and drinking rain water. On the third night
Mauduit crept near the edge of the crater and got near an advance
sentinel, one of those pushed out at night beyond the lines to protect
against surprise. Cadoret, exhausted, lost his balance and fell back
into the crater. Under the German fire Mauduit went back and helped
his companion out. Both crawled along the ground until they fell into
the French trenches.

Attacks by French aeroplanes upon the German lines were the main
features of the day's fighting for November 28, 1915. They damaged the
aviation hangars near Mülhausen, in Alsace, and brought down two
German machines. The Germans exploded a mine in front of the French
works near the Labyrinth, north of Arras, and succeeded in occupying
the crater.

Near the end of November the sleet, snow and winds abated and a dry
frost accompanied by clear skies set in. Immediately a perfect
epidemic of aerial activity broke out. French, German, British, and
Belgian aeroplanes scoured the heavens in all directions, seeking
information and adventure. Even the restless artillery seemed inspired
with still greater energy. German ordnance belched its thunder around
Aveling, Loos, Neuve Chapelle, Armentières, and Ypres, eliciting
vigorous responses from the opposite sides. Aviators fought in the air
and brought each other crashing to earth in mutilated heaps of flesh,
framework and blazing machinery. No fewer than fifteen of these
engagements were recorded in one day. And yet, despite all the bustle
and excitement, the usually conflicting reports agreed that there was
nothing particular to report. Each sector appeared to be conducting a
local campaign on its own account.

The Switzerland correspondent of the since defunct London "Standard"
quoted, on November 30, 1915, from a remarkable article by Dr. Heinz
Pothoff, a former member of the Reichstag:

"Can any one doubt that the German General Staff will hesitate to
employ extreme measures if Germany is ever on the verge of real
starvation? If necessary, we must expel all the inhabitants from the
territories which our armies have occupied, and drive them into the
enemy's lines; if necessary, we must kill the hundreds of thousands of
prisoners who are now consuming our supplies. That would be frightful,
but would be inevitable if there were no other way of holding out."

On the last day of November a bill was introduced in the French
Chamber of Deputies by General Gallieni calling to the colors for
training the 400,000 youths of the class of 1917, who in the ordinary
course of events would not have been called out for another two years.
The war minister explained that it was not the intention of the
Government to send the new class, composed of boys of 18 and 19, to
the front at once, but to provide for their instruction and training
during the winter for active service in the spring, when, "in concert
with our allies, our reenforcements and our armaments will permit us
to make the decisive effort." The bill was passed.

A British squadron bombarded the German fortifications on the Belgian
coast, from Zeebrugge to Ostend, for two hours on November 30, 1915.
The weather suddenly changed on the entire western front. Rain, mist,
and thaw imposed a check on the operations, which simmered down to
artillery bombardments at isolated points. For the next three months
the combatants settled down to the exciting monotony of a winter
campaign, making themselves as comfortable as possible, strengthening
their positions, keeping a sharp eye on the enemy opposite, and
generally preparing for the spring drive. Great offensive and
concerted movements can only be carried out after long and deliberate
preparations. The Allies had shot their bolt, with only partial
success, and considerable time would have to elapse before another
advance on a big scale could be undertaken. Hence the winter campaign
developed into a series of desultory skirmishes and battles, as either
side found an opportunity to inflict some local damage on the other.
For the Allies it was part of the "war of attrition," or General
Joffre's "nibbling process."

The Germans had gone through a bitter experience in Champagne; with
characteristic skill and energy they set to work improving their
defenses. At intervals of approximately 500 yards behind their second
line they constructed underground strongholds known as "starfish
defenses," which cannot be detected from the surface: About thirty
feet below the ground is a dugout of generous dimensions, in which are
stored machine guns, rifles, and other weapons. Leading from this
underground chamber to the surface are five or six tunnels, jutting
out in different directions, so that their outlets form half a dozen
points in a circle with a diameter of perhaps 100 yards. In each of
the tunnels was laid a narrow-gauge railway to allow the machine guns
to be speedily brought to the surface. At the mouth of the tunnels
were two gun platforms on either side, and the mouth itself was
concealed by being covered over with earth or grass. The defenses were
also mined, and the mines could be exploded from any one of the
various outlets. On several occasions when the French endeavored to
press home their advantage they found themselves enfiladed by machine
guns raised to the surface by troops who had taken up their places in
the underground strongholds at the first menace to the second line.
When one of the outlets was captured, machine guns would appear at
another; while, if the French troops attempted to rush the stronghold,
the Germans took refuge in the other passages, and met them as they
appeared.

On the French and British side also, underground defense works were of
a most scientific and elaborate character. Trench warfare has become
an art. Away from the seat of war the importance of the loss or the
gain of a trench is measured by yards. If you are in trenches on the
plain, where the water is a few feet below the surface, and all the
area has been used as a cockpit, you would wonder how any trench can
be held. If, on the other hand, you were snugly installed in a deep
trench on a chalk slope, you would wonder how any trench can be lost.
Any real picture of what a trench is like cannot be drawn or imagined
by a sensitive people. It is, of course, a graveyard--of Germans and
British and French. Miners and other workers in the soil drive their
tunnel or trench into inconceivable strata. They come upon populous
German dugouts, corked by some explosion perhaps a year ago. They are
stopped far below ground by a layer of barbed wire, proved by its
superior thickness to be German. Every yard they penetrate is what
gardeners call "moved soil." It is of the nature of a fresh mole heap
or ants' nest, so crumbled and worked that all its original
consistency has been undone. A good deal of it doubtless has been
tossed fifty feet in the air on the geyser of a mine or shell
explosion. It is full of little bits of burnt sacking, the débris of
sandbags. Weapons and bits of weapons and pieces of human bodies are
scattered through it like plums. The so-called trench may be no more
than a yoked line of shell holes converted with dainty toil and loss
to a more perpendicular angle. And the tangled pattern of craters is
itself pocked with the smaller dents of bombs. There are three grades
of holes--great mine craters that look like an earth convulsion
themselves, pitted with shell holes, which in turn are dimpled by
bombs. Imagine a place like the Ypres salient, a graveyard maze under
the visitation of 8,000 shells falling from three widely separate
angles, and some slight idea may be formed of nearly two years' life
in the trenches. It is an endless struggle for some geographical
feature: a hill, a mound, a river, or for a barn or a house. At Ypres,
indeed, the German and British lines have passed through different
sides of the same stable at the same time. The competition for a hill
or bluff is such that in many cases, as at Hill 60, the desired spot,
as well as the intervening houses and even woods, have been wiped out
of existence before the rival forces.

On November 2, 1915, the British Premier announced in the House of
Commons that there were then nearly a million British soldiers in
Belgium and France; that Canada had sent 96,000 men to the front, and
that the Germans had not gained any ground in the west since April of
that year. He furthermore stated that the British Government was
resolved to "stick at nothing" in carrying out its determination to
carry the war to a successful conclusion. In addition to the troops
mentioned above, the Australian Commonwealth had contributed 92,000
men to date; New Zealand 25,000; South Africa, after a brilliant
campaign in which the Germans in Southwest Africa were subdued, had
sent 6,500; and Newfoundland, Great Britain's oldest colony, 1,600.
Contingents were also sent from Ceylon, the Fiji Islands, and other
outlying parts of the empire. The premier said that since the
beginning of the war the admiralty had transported 2,500,000 troops,
300,000 sick and wounded, 2,500,000 tons of stores and munitions, and
800,000 horses. The loss of life in the transportation of these troops
was stated to be less than one-tenth of one per cent.

On December 2, 1915, General Joffre was appointed commander in chief
of all the French armies, excepting those in North Africa, including
Morocco, and dependent ministry colonies. The appointment was made on
the recommendation of General Gallieni, the War Minister, who, in a
report to President Poincaré, said:

"By the decree of October 28, 1913, the Government, charged with the
vital interests of the country, alone has the right to decide on the
military policy. If the struggle extend to several frontiers, it alone
must decide which is the principal adversary against whom the majority
of the forces shall be directed. It consequently alone controls the
means of action and resources of all kinds, and puts them at the
disposal of the general commander in chief of the different theatres
of operations.

"The experience gained, however, from the present operations, which
are distributed over several fronts, proves that unity of direction,
indispensable to the conduct of the war, can only be assured by the
presence at the head of all of our armies of a single chief,
responsible for the military operations proper."

General Joffre's new appointment possesses a historic interest, for it
created him the first real general in chief since the days of
Napoleon, independent entirely of the national ruler as well as of the
minister for war and any war council.

In the beginning of December, 1915, Field Marshal Sir John French was
relieved at his own instance and appointed to the command of the home
forces. He was given a viscountcy in recognition of his long and
brilliant service in the army.

From the landing of the British Expeditionary Force in France, Sir
John French had commanded it on the Franco-Belgian frontier along a
front that grew from thirty-two miles to nearly seventy in one year,
while the troops under his command had grown in numbers from less than
sixty thousand to well over a million. The son of a naval officer,
John Denton French began his career as a midshipman in the navy, but
gave that up after a three years' trial and joined the army in 1874.
General French was essentially a cavalry commander, and as such he
distinguished himself in the South African War of 1899-1902. His
conduct in the European War has been the subject of some criticism.
The time is not yet ripe to form a just estimate of his achievements
and failures. Nothing succeeds like success, and nothing is easier
than to criticize a military commander who fails to realize the high
expectations of his countrymen. Whatever may be the verdict of history
for or against General French, it will certainly acknowledge that he
did great things with his "contemptible little army." The figure of
Viscount French of Ypres will stand out in bold relief when the inner
history of Mons, the Marne, Neuve Chapelle, Ypres, and Loos is
definitively written. The present generation may not be permitted to
read it, for even to-day, after a hundred years, military experts are
still divided over the mistakes of the great Napoleon.

The command in chief of the British army now devolved upon General Sir
Douglas Haig, who, though a "born aristocrat," had nevertheless taken
his trade of soldiering very seriously. He had served with distinction
in India and South Africa. During the retreat from Mons General Haig
performed marvels of leadership. By skillful maneuvering he extricated
his men at Le Cateau in the most critical moment of the retreat. He
led in the attack on the Aisne, and is also credited with chief
responsibility for the clever movement of the British army from the
Aisne to Ypres. In his dispatch on the battle of Ypres Field Marshal
French highly praised the valuable assistance he had derived from
General Haig. It was said that during the fierce battle of Ypres, "at
one time or another every corps and division commander in the lot
lost hope--except Haig. He was a rock all through."

On December 2, 1915. Mr. Asquith announced in the House of Commons
that Great Britain's total losses in killed, wounded, and missing
since the war began amounted to 510,230.

The figures for the western front were: Killed, 4,620 officers and
69,272 men; wounded, 9,754 officers and 240,283 men; missing, 1,584
officers and 54,446 men; grand total of casualties, 379,959.




CHAPTER XIII

EVENTS IN THE WINTER CAMPAIGN


It is well-nigh impossible to give a connected story of the
innumerable and far-flung operations of the winter campaign. It
resolves itself into a mere list of dates and a brief description of
what happened on those dates. At this short distance of time even the
descriptive details are by no means altogether reliable, owing to the
contradictory reports that announced them. During the first week in
December, 1915, the Germans concentrated strong reenforcements and an
immense amount of artillery with the object of striking a blow at the
allied line in Flanders and Artois. In Champagne they captured about
800 feet of an advanced trench near Auberive. The French admitted the
loss, but claimed that they had reoccupied a large part of the ground
originally yielded.

Floods in the Yser region compelled the Germans to abandon many of
their advanced trenches, and two of their ammunition depots were blown
up. Near Berry-au-Bac they destroyed a French trench with its
occupants and blew up some mines that the French had almost completed.
Artillery engagements in Artois became more pronounced, especially
around Givenchy. On the 8th sixteen British aeroplanes bombed a German
stores depot at Miraumont, in the Somme district, and the aerodrome at
Hervilly. The attack was carried out in a high westerly wind, which
made flying difficult. All machines returned safely after inflicting
much damage on both objectives. A British cargo boat having run
aground off the Belgian coast, three German hydroaeroplanes attempted
to sink her with bombs. Several of the allied aeroplanes, one of them
French, set out from the land and drove the German flyers away after
an exciting fight. Deep snow in the Vosges Mountains prevented
operations beyond artillery action.

On December 16, 1915, in the course of his demand in the Chamber of
Deputies that the Chamber grant three months' credit on the budget
account, the French Minister of Finance, M. Ribot, said that while the
war expenditure at the beginning of the conflict was 1,500,000,000
francs ($300,000,000) a month, it had risen to 2,100,000,000 francs
($420,000,000). "At the beginning of hostilities financial
considerations took a secondary place. We did not think the war would
last seventeen months, and now no one can foresee when it will end."

Artillery activity of more than usual intensity at a number of points
marked the 17th, 18th and 19th of December, 1915. To the east of Ypres
French and British batteries bombarded the German trenches from which
suffocating gas was directed toward the British line. No infantry
attacks followed. By December 22, 1915, the French had gained the
summit of Hartmannsweilerkopf, a dominating peak in southern Alsace,
overlooking the roads leading to the Rhine. For eight months they had
fought for the position, and thousands of lives were sacrificed by the
attackers and the defenders. The Germans succeeded in recovering part
of the ground next day. The French took 1,300 prisoners in the
capture, and the Germans claimed 1,553 prisoners in the recapture.
Fighting continued around the spot for months.

Christmas passed with no break in the hostilities and no material
change in the situation on the western front. The year 1915 closed, in
a military sense, less favorably for the Allies than it began. Only a
few square miles had been reconquered in the west at a heavy
sacrifice; Italy had made little progress; the Dardanelles expedition
had proved a failure; the British had not reached Bagdad nor attained
their aim in Greece; while Russia had lost nearly all Galicia, with
Poland and Courland as well, and the Serbian army had been practically
eliminated. On the other hand, the Allies had maintained supremacy on
the seas, had captured all but one of the German colonies, and still
held all German sea-borne trade in a vise of steel. Not one of the
armies of the Allies other than that of Serbia had been struck down;
each of them was hard at work raising new armies and developing the
supply of munitions. The spirit of all the warring peoples, without
exception, appeared to be that of a grim, unbending determination.
Germany, with a large proportion of her able-bodied manhood disposed
of and her trade with the outer world cut off, was perhaps in greater
straits than a superficial examination of her military successes
showed. The care with which the Germans economized their supplies of
men, and made the fullest possible use in the field of men who were
not physically fit for actual military service, was illustrated by the
creation of some new formations called Armierungsbattalionen. These
battalions, of which, it was said, no full description would be
published before the end of the war, consisted of all sorts of men
with slight physical defects, underofficers and noncommissioned
officers who were either too old for service or had been invalided.
Their duty was to relieve the soldiers of as much work as possible.
They were employed in roadmaking and in transporting munitions and
supplies in difficult country--for example, in the Vosges Mountains.
Most of these men--and there were many thousands of them--wore
uniforms, but carried no arms.

It is rather an ironical commentary on "our present advanced state of
culture," as Carlyle put it, that the birthday of the Man of
Sorrows--the period of "peace on earth and good will toward all
men"--was celebrated even amid the raucous crash and murderous turmoil
of the battle field. Preparations had long been in the making for the
event. In the homes of France, Germany, and Great Britain millions and
millions of parcels were carefully packed full of little luxuries,
comforts, tobacco, cigars, and cigarettes, and addressed to some loved
one "at the front." Newspapers collected subscriptions and busy
societies were also formed for the same purpose, so that there was
hardly a single combatant who did not receive some token of
remembrance from home.

On the occasion of the New Year the kaiser addressed the following
order to his army and navy:

"Comrades:--One year of severe fighting has elapsed. Whenever a
superior number of enemies tried to rush our lines they failed before
your loyalty and bravery. Every place where I sent you into battle you
gained glorious victories. Thankfully we remember to-day above all our
brethren who joyfully gave their blood in order to gain security for
our beloved ones at home and imperishable glory for the Fatherland.
What they began we shall accomplish with God's gracious help.

"In impotent madness our enemies from west and east, from north and
south, still strive to deprive us of all that makes life worth living.
The hope of conquering us in fair fighting they have buried long ago.
On the weight of their masses, on the starvation of our entire people,
on the influence of their campaign of calumny, which is as mischievous
as malicious, they believe they can still reckon. Their plans will not
succeed. Their hopes will be miserably disappointed in the presence of
the spirit of determination which imperturbably unites the army and
those at home.

"With a will to do one's duty for the Fatherland to the last breath,
and a determination to secure victory, we enter the new year with God
for the protection of the Fatherland and for Germany's greatness."

About the same time Count Zeppelin delivered a speech at Düsseldorf.
The local newspapers reported him as saying: "Speaking for myself and
expressing the view of your Imperial Master, the war will not last two
years. The next few months will see German arms march rapidly from
triumph to triumph, and the final destruction of our enemies will be
swift and sudden. Our Zeppelin fleets will play an important part in
future operations and will demonstrate more than ever their power as a
factor in modern warfare."

The opening of the year 1916 found Great Britain in the throes of a
momentous controversy over the question of adopting conscription. In
the west the Franco-British armies hugged the belief that their lines
were impregnable to attack. An offensive on the part of the Germans
was certainly expected, but where and when it would materialize none
could foretell, though the French command had a shrewd suspicion. It
was purely a matter of deduction that the Germans, having so far
failed to break a passage through the circle of steel that encompassed
them on the east and the west, would be forced to concentrate their
hopes on an offensive on the western front. They had carefully taken
into consideration the Battle of Champagne. They admitted that the
French had opened a breach in their line, and they would probably
argue that the imperfect results of the operations were due only to
the inability of their enemies to exploit the first advantage that
they had gained. They appear to have decided to copy the French
example, but to apply to it the German touch of thoroughness. The
French, they might argue, fired so many shells on a front of so many
miles and destroyed our trenches; we will fire so many more shells on
a narrower front, so that we can be certain there will be no obstacle
to the advance of our infantry. The French had not enough men to carry
their initial success to its conclusion, consequently we will mass a
very large number of men behind the attack. With this object
undoubtedly in view, the Germans indulged in a succession of feints up
and down the whole frontier, feeling and probing the line at all
points. This procedure cost them thousands of men, but it probably did
not deceive the strategists on the other side. All that remained
indeterminable to the French Staff was the precise date and locality.

A general survey of the front for the first days of January, 1916,
reveals activity all round. In Belgium there was artillery fighting
over the front of the Yser and along the front at Yperlee, and a
similar duel between Germans and Belgians near Mercken. In front of
the British first-line trenches the Germans sprang mines, but did not
trouble to take possession of the craters. The British sprang some
mines near La Poisselu and bombarded the German trenches north of
Fromelles and east of Ypres, the Germans responding vigorously.

The British also attempted a night attack near Frelinghien, northeast
of Armentières, which failed in its purpose. German troops cracked a
mine at Hulluch and captured a French trench at Hartmannsweilerkopf
with 200 prisoners. The French heavy artillery in Champagne directed a
strong fire against some huts occupied by Germans in the forest of
Malmaison. A German attack with hand grenades in the vicinity of the
Tahure road did little harm. Between the Arve and the Oise artillery
exchanges were in continual progress; between Soissons and Rheims a
series of mine explosions; and in the Vosges the French artillery
roared in the vicinity of Mühlbach. A German long-range gun fired
about ten shots at Nancy and its environments, killing two civilians
and wounding seven others.

In the north, again, we find the German artillery making a big
demonstration on the front east of Ypres and northeast of Loos; the
British destroying the outskirts of Andechy in the region of Roye.
French and Belgian guns batter the Germans stationed to the east of
St. George and shell other groups about Boesinghe and Steenstraete.
South of the Somme the German first-line trenches near Dompierre are
receiving artillery attention, and a supply train south of Chaulnes is
shattered. In Champagne the Tahure skirmish goes on, while in the
Vosges an artillery duel of great intensity rends the air in the
Hirzstein sector.

Along the Yser front the Belgians are shelled in the rear of their
lines, and a German barracks is being bombarded. On the southern part
of the British front bomb attacks are being carried out. With all this
sporadic and disconnected expenditure of life, energy and ammunition
little damage is done, and the losses and gains on either side are
equally unimportant. The Germans are tapping against the wall, looking
for weak spots. By the 5th, however, when General Joffre's New Year's
message appears, in which he tells his armies that the enemy is
weakening, that enemy suddenly grows more active and energetic. German
artillery fire increased in violence throughout Flanders, Artois,
Champagne, and the Vosges. They launched infantry attacks against the
French between Hill 193 and the Butte de Tahure. North of Arras the
French bombarded German troops in the suburbs of Roye; in the Vosges
they shelled German works in the region of Balschwiller, and
demolished some trenches and a munitions depot northwest of Altkirch.

British aeroplanes dropped bombs on the aerodrome at Douai, and a
German aviator dropped a few on Boulogne. The German War Office
statement briefly announced that "fighting with artillery and mines at
several points on the Franco-Belgian front is reported." The next few
days are almost a blank; hardly anything leaks out; but things are
happening all the same.

To the south of Hartmannsweilerkopf, after a series of fruitless
attacks, followed by a severe bombardment, the Germans succeeded in
recovering the trenches which they had lost to the French on December
31, 1915. Besides that, they also captured 20 officers, 1,083
chasseurs, and 15 machine guns. This move compelled the French troops
occupying the summit of Hirzstein to evacuate their position.
Artillery incessantly thundered in Flanders, Champagne, Artois, the
Vosges, and on the British lines at Hulluch and Armentières. By
January 10, 1916, it looked as though the Germans intended to retrieve
the misfortunes of Champagne. An assault by the kaiser's troops under
General von Einem was made on a five-mile front east of Tahure, with
the center about at Maisons de Champagne Farm, close to the Butte de
Mesnil. At this point the French had held well to the ground won
during the previous September. On the 9th the German artillery opened
fire with great violence, using suffocating shells, and this was
followed by four concentric infantry attacks on that front during the
day and night. The French fire checked the offensive, but at two
points the Germans managed to reach the first French lines. The battle
raged for three days, during which the Germans took a French
observation post, several hundred yards of trenches, 423 prisoners,
seven machine guns, and eight mine throwers. The French counterattack
broke down, though it was claimed that they had recovered the ground.

At Massiges the Germans attacked on almost as large a scale as the
French had done the previous autumn. The German bombardment increased
steadily in intensity, and during the last twelve hours 400,000 shells
were stated to have fallen on the eight-mile front from La Courtine to
the western slopes of the "Hand" of Massiges. The infantry were thrown
forward on the 10th. The first attack was launched on the hill forming
the western finger of Massiges, whence the French fire broke their
ranks and drove them back. Foiled in this direction, the next attack
was delivered against the five-mile front. Some 40,000 men took part
in the charge. But the powerful French "seventy-fives" tore ghastly
lanes in their ranks, and few lived to reach the wire entanglements.
Crawling through the holes made by the bombardment, they captured 300
yards of trenches. A portion of this the French regained. The British
lost four aeroplanes on January 12-13, 1916. Two German aviators
accounted for one each, and the other two were brought down by
gunfire.

The Prussian Prime Minister, Dr. von Bethmann-Hollweg, who is also
Imperial Chancellor, opened the new session of the Prussian Diet on
January 13, 1916. In reading the speech from the throne, he said: "As
our enemies forced the war upon us, they must also bear the guilt of
the responsibility if the nations of Europe continue to inflict wounds
upon one another."

By the 13th the German offensive in Champagne had collapsed.
Operations in the west resumed for the time a normal state of
activity, in which artillery duels were the main features. In the
middle of January the British opened fire on the French town of Lille,
near the Belgian border and inside the German lines. According to
German authority, the damage done was negligible. Little of import
happened till January 23, 1916, when two squadrons of French
aeroplanes, comprising twenty-four machines, bombarded the railway
station and barracks at Metz. They dropped 130 shells. The aeros were
escorted by two protecting squadrons, the pilots of which during the
trip engaged in ten combats with giant Fokkers and aviatiks. The
French machines were severely cannonaded along the whole of their
course, but returned undamaged, except one only, which was obliged to
make a landing southeast of Metz. On the 24th the Germans made another
strong feint, this time in Belgium, that had all the appearance of the
expected attack in force. They began by bombarding the French lines
near Nieuport, but the infantry charge that was to have followed was
smothered in the German trenches, before the men could make a start.
Another German attack north of Arras was held up by French rifle fire.
The chief result of the offensive seems to have been the destruction
of Nieuport cathedral.

Toward the end of January, 1916, activity became more and more
intensified all along the western front in every sector except that in
which the Germans were preparing for the big coup--Verdun. It will be
simpler to review the disconnected operations by following them
separately in the different districts where they occurred. It will be
observed that in practically every case the Germans assumed the
offensive. In Alsace the French batteries exploded a German munitions
depot on the outskirts of Orbey, southeast of Bonhomme. In the region
of Sondernach, south of Münster, the Germans captured and occupied a
French listening post, from which they were expelled by
counterattacks. On February 13, 1916, they attempted an infantry
attack, which was halted by French artillery fire. The Germans gained
300 feet of trenches on the 14th. The French took the ground back
again, but were unable to hold it. On the 18th the Germans, after the
usual artillery preparation, directed an infantry attack against the
French position to the north of Largitson, where they penetrated into
the trenches and remained there for some hours until a counterattack
expelled them. In Lorraine, constant artillery duels raged in the
sectors of Reillon and the forest of Parroy. In the Argonne, French
mine operations destroyed the German trenches over a short distance
near Hill 285, northeast of La Chalade. On February 12, 1916, the
French shattered some enemy mine works.

Increased artillery firing at many points in Flanders and northern
France first gave the Allies the impression that the Germans were
planning a new offensive on a large scale against their left wing, in
an attempt to blast a passage through to Calais and Dunkirk. By
February 7, 1916, the Allies were thoroughly awake to the possibility
of a big blow impending somewhere in the west. The sweep through
Serbia had released several hundred thousand men for service
elsewhere. For a month the Germans had been hammering and probing at
Loos, Givenchy, Armentières, and other points with the evident object
of finding a weak spot. Along the Neuville-Givenchy road especially
the Germans made no fewer than twenty-five determined attacks between
the 1st and 17th of February, 1916. Their later attacks developed more
to the north, near Lièvin, where heavy trench fighting occurred, with
no important results either way.

At the beginning of February, 1916, the 525-mile battle front in the
west was held on one side by about 1,250,000 Germans--an average of
2,500 to the mile--as against quite 2,000,000 French, about 1,000,000
British, and 50,000 Belgians. But this superiority in numbers on the
allied side was neutralized by the strength of the German defense
works plus artillery. None of the Allies' undertakings had, so far,
been carried out to its logical--or intended--conclusion. Whether this
was due to weakness, infirmity of purpose or lack of coordination,
remains to be told some future day. By the middle of the month it
became apparent, from their expenditure of men and munitions, that the
German General Staff were determined to make up for their past losses
and to recapture at least some of the ground taken from them by the
Allies. It seems hardly credible that all these fierce attacks were
mere feints to withdraw attention from their objective--Verdun. They
had no reason to fear a French offensive in the immediate future. For
one thing the condition of the ground was still too unfavorable. The
French at this stage occupied practically the entire semicircle from
Hill 70 to the town of Thelus, excepting a portion between Givenchy
and Petit Vimy. Hill 140, the predominant feature in the district, was
almost all in French hands. The line between La Folie and the junction
of the Neuville-St. Vaast road covered the Labyrinth, which the
French had won in the summer of 1915, and it was here that the main
force of the German attacks was launched. The French positions on the
heights commanded every other position that the Germans could possibly
take within the semicircle, and naturally gave the former an immense
advantage for their next offensive.

In Artois the Germans exploded several mines on January 26, 1916, in
the neighborhood of the road from La Folie, northeast of Neuville-St.
Vaast, and occupied the craters made. Violent cannonading kept up in
the whole of this sector. By the 28th the Germans had captured three
successive lines of French trenches and held them against eight
counterattacks. After exploding mines the Germans made an attack on
both sides of the road between Vimy and Neuville and stormed French
positions between 500 and 600 yards long. They captured fifty-three
men, a machine gun, and three mine throwers. On the 28th they directed
infantry attacks against various points and gained more trenches.
Following up their advantage the Germans stormed and captured the
village of Frise, on the south bank of the Somme.

While this struggle was in progress, a terrific fight was raging north
of Arras. The real objective of the attack appears to have been an
advance south of Frise in the direction of Dompierre, but this effort
met with little success. The French at once set to work to recover the
only ground that was of any real importance. The troops in the section
opened a series of counterattacks, and in a very short time the French
grenadiers had gained the upper hand again. The capture of Frise
brought the Germans into a cul-de-sac, for their advance was still
barred by the Somme Canal, behind which there lay a deep marsh.
Maneuvers were quite impossible here, hence the village could not
serve as a base for any further operations. The German gains were
nevertheless considerable, for they took about 3,800 yards of trenches
and nearly 1,300 prisoners, including several British. Spirited mine
fighting marked the first three days of February, 1916. In the
neighborhood of the road from Lille the French artillery fire caused
explosions among the German batteries in the region of Vimy. Between
February 8-9, 1916, the German infantry stormed the first-line French
positions over a stretch of more than 800 yards, capturing 100
prisoners and five machine guns. Small sections of these trenches were
retaken and held.

The German report stated that the French "were unable to reconquer any
part of their lost positions." Five German attacks were made on Hill
140 on February 11, 1916, all but one being repulsed by the intense
fire of the French artillery and infantry. Stubborn fighting,
accompanied by heavy losses, raged about the 14th, by which time the
French had regained a few more trenches. The steady underground
advance of the French sappers drove the Germans back upon their last
bastion, commanding the central plain.

The French trenches gradually crept up the slopes of the hill until
the German commander, the Bavarian Crown Prince, realized that the
next assault was likely to be irresistible and to involve the
abandonment of Lille, Lens, Douai, and the entire front at this point.
A mine explosion west of Hill 140 made a crater fifty yards across. A
steeplechase dash across the open from both sides--French and Germans
met in the crater--a fierce struggle for its possession followed, and
the French won the hole. A furious bombardment from a score of
quick-firing mortars hidden behind La Folie Hill battered the earth
out of shape, and when the Germans occupied the terrain where the
French trenches had been, the "seventy-fives" played such havoc among
them that they were forced to relinquish their hold. To the south of
Frise the Germans were preparing an attack, but were prevented from
carrying it out by French and British barrier fires.

On the British front the artillery was hardly less active than in
Artois. On one section, according to a German report, the British
fired 1,700 shrapnel shells, 700 high explosive shells, and about the
same number of bombs within twenty-four hours. On January 27, 1916,
the Germans attempted an infantry attack on a salient northeast of
Loos, but were held back. A British night attack on the German
trenches near Messines, Flanders, was likewise repulsed. In the
morning of February 12, 1916, the Germans broke into the British
trenches near Pilkellen, but were pushed out by bombing parties. There
was much mining activity about Hulluch and north of the Ypres-Comines
Canal. At the latter place some desperate underground fighting
occurred between sappers. On the 14th the Germans were again engaged
in serious operations in the La Bassée region, where they exploded
seven mines on the British front.

By February 15, 1916, the British first-line trenches on a 600 to 800
yards' front fell to the Germans in assaults on the Ypres salient,
carried by a bayonet charge after artillery preparation. Most of the
defenders were killed and forty prisoners taken. The assaults extended
over a front of more than two miles. The trench now captured by the
Germans had frequently changed hands during the past twelve months,
and for that reason was facetiously called "the international trench."
The brunt of the fighting here fell upon the Canadians, who were
withdrawn from the trench owing to the furious bombardment, and
sheltered in the second-line trench. The German infantry consequently
met with no opposition at the former, but when they approached the
latter the Canadians opened a murderous fire with rifles and machine
guns, dropping their enemies in hundreds. A few, however, managed to
reach the trenches, when the Canadians sprang out and charged with
bayonets, rushed the Germans back to and across the first-line
trenches again, which were then reoccupied. It was the Canadian First
Division that had blocked the German path to Calais in the spring of
1915 almost at the same point.

Activity on the west front on the 18th was largely confined to the
Ypres district. British troops attempted to recapture their positions
to the south of Ypres, simultaneously bombarding the German trenches
to the north of the Comines Canal. By February 20, 1916, as a result
of the continuous fighting north of Ypres, the British had lost on the
Yser Canal what the German official report described as a position 350
meters long, and the British statement as "an unimportant advanced
post." The Germans took some prisoners and repelled several day and
night attacks by the British to recover the ground.

In Champagne, uninterrupted artillery actions continued apparently
without much advantage to either side. The German works north of
Souain were particularly visited. On February 5, 1916, the French
bombarded the German works on the plateau of Navarin, wrecking
trenches and blowing up several munition depots. Some reservoirs of
suffocating gas were also demolished, releasing the poisonous fumes,
which the wind blew back across the German lines. On the 13th the
French were able to report a further success northeast of the Butte du
Mesnil, where they took some 300 yards of German trenches. A
counterattack by night was also repulsed, the Germans losing
sixty-five prisoners. They succeeded, though, in penetrating a small
salient of the French line between the road from Navarin and that of
the St. Souplet. They also captured, on the 12th, some sections of
advanced trenches between Tahure and Somme-Py, gaining more than 700
yards of front.

In the Vosges a similar series of local engagements occupied the
combatants. Artillery exchanges played the chief part in the
operations. Three big shells from a German long-range gun fell in the
fortress town of Belfort and its environs on February 8, 1916. The
French replied by bombarding the German cantonments at Stosswier,
northwest of Münster, Hirtzbach, south of Altkirch, and the military
establishments at Dornach, near Mühlhausen. On the 11th ten more heavy
shells fell about Belfort. North of Wissembach, east of St. Dié, a
German infantry charge met with a withering fire and was stopped
before it reached the first line.

While all the fighting just described was in progress, matters were
comparatively on a peace footing in the Argonne Forest. The French and
Germans engaged in mine operations, smashing up inconsiderable pieces
of each other's trenches and mine works. But it was here that affairs
of great historic import, perhaps the mightiest event of the war, were
in the making.

In an interview given to the editor of the "Secolo" of Milan, at the
end of January, 1916, Mr. Lloyd-George, the British Minister of
Munitions, said: "We woke up slowly to it, but I am now perfectly
satisfied with what we are doing. We have now 2,500 factories,
employing 1,500,000 men and 250,000 women. By spring we shall have
turned out an immense amount of munitions. We shall have for the first
time in the war more than the enemy. Our superiority in men and
munitions will be unquestioned, and I think that the war for us is
just beginning. We have 3,000,000 men under arms; by spring we shall
have a million more.... Our victory must be a real and final victory.
You must not think of a deadlock. One must crack the nut before one
gets at the kernel. It may take a long time, but you must hear the
crack. The pressure on the enemy is becoming greater. They are
spreading their frontier temporarily, but becoming weaker in a
military sense. Make no mistake about it; Great Britain is determined
to fight this war to a finish. We may make mistakes, but we do not
give in. It was the obstinacy of Great Britain that wore down Napoleon
after twenty years of warfare. Her allies broke away one by one, but
Great Britain kept on. Our allies on this occasion are just as solid
and determined as we are."




CHAPTER XIV

THE BATTLE OF VERDUN--THE GERMAN ATTACK


Toward the close of 1915 the German General Staff decided on a vast
onslaught on the French front that would so crush and cripple the
fighting forces of France that they would cease to count as an
important factor in the war. A great action was also necessary owing
to the external and internal situation of the German Empire. The time
was ripe for staging a spectacular victory that would astonish the
world, intimidate Greece and Rumania, and stiffen the weakening hold
that Germany had on Turkey and Bulgaria.

The German General Staff knew that Russia was arming several hundred
thousand new troops, that Great Britain had reenforced her armies on
the Continent, that the Allies were amply supplied with guns and
shells, and that in the spring they would undertake an offensive on a
large scale that would go far toward ending the war. In order to
anticipate this threatened onslaught the German staff decided to
strike, hoping to gain a victory before the Allies were entirely
ready.

Having arrived at this decision, the next problem was to select the
battle field, and Verdun was decided upon. At first this choice
created general astonishment, for the capture of Verdun would only
mean the gaining of a certain number of square miles of territory. But
the German staff believed that the capture of the ancient fortress of
Verdun would have a powerful effect on public opinion at home and
abroad. As a military operation they were confident that such a
victory might have a decisive effect on the future of the war. It was
hoped that the French army, already weakened, would receive a crushing
blow from which it could never recover. An intelligent German prisoner
explained the German point of view: "Verdun sticks into our side like
a dagger, though sheathed. With that weapon threatening our vitals,
how can we think of rushing on France elsewhere? If we had done so,
the Verdun dagger might have stabbed us in the back as well as in the
side."

In order to sustain the German people's faith in the Hohenzollern
dynasty there was urgent necessity that the crown prince should gain a
success. The capture of Verdun would reestablish his somewhat
tarnished military reputation and might force an exhausted France to
sue for peace.

The loss of Verdun and its girdle of forts would have made the
situation of the defenders very difficult, they would find it a
serious problem to hold back the German hosts while organizing a new
line of defense from St. Mihiel to Ste. Ménéhould. Moreover as the
German lines formed a semicircle around the French position at Verdun
an immense number of guns could be massed against a small area.

In the matter of railway facilities the Germans had every advantage.
They possessed fourteen strategic lines, while the French had only one
ordinary double line, which was in easy range of the German guns
south of Vauquois, and a narrow gauge from Verdun to Bar-le-Duc. This
terrible handicap was in time overcome by the French, who brought to
perfection a system of motor transport by road that enabled them at a
moment's notice to bring up men, ammunition, and supplies to the
defense of Verdun.

The French positions around the fortress had not greatly changed since
the closing months of 1914, when the French carried the village of
Brabant and Haumont Wood and occupied the southeast corner of
Consenvoye Wood. Two formidable natural barriers had been secured by
the Germans: Forges Wood on the left, a long crest east and west
confronting the French lines and bisected its full length by a ravine.
Protected from French fire from the south, it afforded an excellent
artillery position, while the trees served as a screen against aerial
observation. The position also commanded a clear view of the French
left at Brabant. To attack Forges Wood it would be necessary to
advance over an open space entirely bare of any natural protection. On
the right of the French positions the Germans occupied a strong post
on a sort of island that overlooked the Woevre plain and having on one
side a steep cliff.

The possession of these two strong positions by the Germans exposed
the French flanks to artillery fire from every direction. It was
impossible that the French line, bent into a salient in front of
Haumont and Caures Wood, could hold out if the Germans massed a great
number of guns against it.

When the struggle in the Verdun sector began the French left was
resting on the centers of Brabant, Consenvoye, Haumont, and Caures
Wood, their first position. The second was marked by a line passing
through Samogneux, Hill 344, and Mormont Farm.

The French center included the Bois de la Ville, Herbebois, and Ornes,
with the woods of Beaumont, La Wavrille, Les Fosses, Le Chaume, and
Les Caurières as the second position.

[Illustration: The Forts At Verdun.]

The French right included Maucourt, Mogeville, the Haytes-Charrières
Wood, and Fromezey, with a second position covering Bezonvaux,
Grand-Chena, and Dieppe. Back of these positions the line of forts
was distinguished by the village of Bras, Douaumont, Hardaumont, the
fort of Vaux, La Laurée, and Eix. Between this line of forts and the
second position an intermediate position on the reverse side of the
slope had been begun from Douaumont to Louvemont, on the Poivre and
Talou Hills, but at the time of the opening assault the work had not
made much progress.

The Germans prepared for the offensive with the most exhaustive
labors, and as far as it was humanly possible left nothing to chance.
Roads were made through the woods and up the slopes, firm foundations
were laid down, and the heavy guns were dragged to elevated positions.
As the result of these weeks of herculean toil there were massed
against the selected sector over a thousand guns brought from every
quarter--Serbia, Russia, and the west front. The proportion of heavy
guns was much larger than had ever been employed in preparing attacks
of this kind.

Toward the close of December, 1915, the Germans received strong
reenforcements, the first to arrive being three divisions which had
fought in the campaign against Serbia. From other fronts also they
flowed in, and the two corps which had held the Vauquois-Etain sector
was increased to seven. Some of the finest German troops were included
in these armies, such as the Third Brandenburg Corps and the Fifteenth
Corps. It was evident that the Germans counted on the battle of Verdun
to decide the fighting in France, for just before the offensive began
General Daimling addressed his troops in these words: "In this _last_
offensive against France I hope that the Fifteenth Corps will
distinguish itself as it has ever done by its courage and its
fortitude."

Starting from the north of Varennes the German order of battle on the
day of attack was as follows: On the extreme right were the Seventh
Reserve Corps, comprising the Second Landwehr Division, the Eleventh
Reserve Division (later relieved by the Twenty-second Reserve
Division), and the Twelfth Reserve Division in the order given.
Northeast of Verdun, and facing the French lines, were the Fourteenth
Division and the Seventh Reserve Corps, with the Eleventh Bavarian
Reserve Division in support. To the left of these armies was a central
force, comprising the Eighteenth Corps, the Third Corps, the Fifteenth
Corps, and the Bavarian Ersatz Division in the order named.

It was estimated by a competent French military authority that the
Germans had under arms in this sector up to the 16th of March a grand
total of 440,000 men, of which 320,000 were infantry. When the battle
opened, the Germans were at least three times as strong in numbers as
their opponent.

Before the date fixed for the great offensive the Germans undertook
many local attacks on the French front with a view to deceiving their
antagonists as to their real objective. In Artois, Champagne, and the
Argonne Forest there was some strenuous mine fighting, and at Frise in
Santerre the Germans gained some ground only to lose it a little
later.

A bombarding squadron of Zeppelins which the Germans sent out along
the Verdun front to cut railway communications fared badly. The French
antiaircraft guns brought down a number of Fokkers and a Zeppelin in
flames at Revigny, but the raiders succeeded in cutting the Ste.
Ménéhould line, leaving only a narrow-gauge road to supply Verdun.

At 4.15 in the morning of February 21, 1916, the great battle began,
the German guns deluging the sector with shells of every caliber that
smashed and tore the French positions and surroundings until the very
face of nature was distorted. French trench shelters vanished and in
Caures Wood and La Ville Wood men were buried in the dugouts or blown
to fragments. Telephone lines having been cut, communication could
only be maintained by runners. News of the great destruction wrought
by the German guns, far from depressing the French fighting units, had
a stimulating effect. The French front lines crumbled away under the
deluge of fire, but their occupants still clung tenaciously to the
débris that remained. The German guns were everywhere, and it was
useless for French aerial observers to indicate any special batteries
for bombardment. The Germans had the greater number of guns and the
heavier, but the French artillery was better served on the whole, and
there was less reckless expenditure of ammunition. As an illustration
of the brilliant work of the French artillery, an eyewitness has
described the defense of a position southeast of Haumont Wood. Here
one battery was divided into flanking guns in three positions--one to
the southeast of Haumont Wood, a second to the south, and a third to
the north of Samogneux. The two other batteries were to the south of
Hill 312; there was also a supporting battery of six 90-mm. guns. In
response to the German attack the French replied with a curtain of
fire, but, unchecked by the fearful loss of life, they began to swarm
in from all sides.

"They reached Caures Wood by the crests between Haumont Wood and
Caures Wood itself, and advanced like a flood on our positions. The
section which attempted to hold them back adjusted its range to their
rate of progress and mowed them down wave after wave. Swept by the
storm of shells, the Germans continued to advance and some succeeded
in making their way around to the rear of the guns. The French by this
time had come to the end of their ammunition, but they did not lose
their head, and, destroying their pieces, retreated, bringing a
wounded sergeant major along with them."

A battery of 90's on the Haumont knoll was forced to stop firing.
Pierrard, an adjutant whose battery had ceased to exist, was
dispatched by the commander to help.

"Pierrard collected his companions and attached himself to the
battery, which opened fire again with tremendous effect. Those guns
were in action under him for forty-eight hours, during which he kept
up constant communication with the group commander, the burden of his
song being an incessant demand for ammunition for this truly epic duel
with the Germans.

"Unfortunately it was impossible to get supplies up. The Germans were
so near that Pierrard and his men used their rifles against them;
then, finding the position untenable, they blew up their guns and
retired." It was during this retreat that the gallant Pierrard was
killed.

The indomitable courage of the French gunners in this great battle is
described in another instance by a French officer who was present:

"A certain battery was being terribly shelled. A 305-mm. shell burst
and killed the captain, the adjutant, a sergeant major and five
gunners. Do you think that the others stopped? Not at all; they took
off their coats and, working in their shirt sleeves, increased their
efforts to intensify the curtain of fire and to avenge their leaders
and comrades."

The defense of Caures Wood by Lieutenant Colonel Driant's chasseurs
was one of the most brilliant and dramatic incidents in the battle of
Verdun. The deluge of German shells had destroyed the deepest French
dugouts, and before noon their stronghold had been smashed in, burying
an officer and fourteen men beneath the débris. The bombardment
continued until the French defenders were left without a single
shelter worthy of the name. When the Germans began to attack Haumont,
their front-line skirmishers, to create confusion, wore caps that
imitated the French, and were also provided with Red Cross brassards.
The attempted deception was soon discovered, and the Germans were
forced to pay heavily for the trick. In spite of great losses the
Germans continued to advance, succeeded in gaining a foothold in the
French first-line trenches, and held on. Throughout the night there
were many counterattacks and constant grenade fighting, but the French
maintained their positions.

On the second day of the assault the Germans resumed their terrific
bombardment. Trenches were obliterated, and portions of the forest
were swept away. About noon a large body of German troops attacked
French positions in Caures Wood, trying to turn their flanks from two
sides, Haumont and La Ville Wood. The French fought with desperate
energy, but the Germans had one gun that raked their chief position,
and the iron ring of the enemy gradually contracted. To attempt to
defend the position longer in the face of such conditions would mean
death or captivity and reluctantly the French commanding officer,
Lieutenant Colonel Driant, gave the order to retire. Driant waited to
see the last of his men through the wood. He was never heard of again.

The retiring column, leaving the shelter of the wood, encountered
heavy machine-gun fire, and, greatly depleted in numbers, finally
gained the first line of the second position at Beaumont.

No attempt was made by the Germans to advance on the Woevre front. In
the territory of Soumazannes, La Ville Wood, and Herbebois the French
firmly maintained the supporting line.

The tactics pursued by the Germans during the first days of the battle
of Verdun were ably considered and not lacking in thoroughness. Their
favorite method was to break into defensive sectors with heavy
artillery, and then completely surround them by barrage fire. After
the destructive work of the guns they sent forward a scouting party of
a dozen or fifteen men to report on the extent of the damage.
Following them came bombers and pioneers, and then a strong body of
infantry. Theoretically, this system had merit, but it did not always
work out as perfectly as the German strategists had planned. Their
artillery fire often failed to win the ground and make it safe for
their infantry to advance and occupy it. The French artillery
endeavored to isolate the attacks, should they succeed in reaching the
French lines, and their fearless infantry by vigorous counterattacks
prevented the Germans from making any important advance.

The fighting for Haumont was continued on February 22, 1916. The
strong resistance the French had offered to the furious attacks of the
German infantry may be called a failure. But they succeeded in holding
back the Germans until their reserves had time to reach the scene and
prepare a new defensive line.

Early in the morning of the 22d the Germans had increased their
bombardment. Shells of the largest caliber fell, uprooting trees and
demolishing houses.

When the Germans attacked Consenvoye Wood with flame projectors and
advanced toward the western edge of Haumont Wood, the French could not
move out of the village, so dense was the curtain of fire around them.

Braving this blasting storm, troops of the Haumont garrison occupied
the half-ruined works on both sides and in front of the place, while
the southern exit was held by some reserves that had reached the
scene.

Haumont and the ravine to the south were flooded with German shells of
the largest caliber. Early in the afternoon they were falling at the
rate of twenty a minute. The French held on undismayed. The village
crumbled into a mass of débris. The principal French defense, a
redoubt of concrete, was smashed, and some eighty men were buried in
the ruins. A number of machine guns were also lost, and the ammunition
dump was destroyed.

About 5 o'clock in the evening a German battalion attacked Haumont,
advancing in three columns. The remnant of French troops manned the
trenches. The few remaining machine guns were brought into action and,
being well served, wrought havoc in the enemy's ranks, but the deadly
advance continued, regardless of the heavy losses incurred.

The French then assembled every survivor in some trenches southeast of
Haumont, and with three machine guns continued the fight. But the
Germans had the advantage of numbers. They penetrated to the center of
the village, and finally surrounded the French battalion headquarters.

After premises were fired by means of flame projectors, the French
colonel and his staff, facing capture or death, were fortunate in
escaping through the German machine-gun barrage without a single
casualty. They had been forced to evacuate Haumont, but their
sustained and splendid defense of the place was one of the bravest
deeds that marked the Homeric struggle at Verdun.

At the close of the day the French still held the greater part of
Herbebois and Wavrille, but La Ville Wood was in the hands of the
enemy. The French line now ran by Hill 240, the Mormont Farm, and the
intermediate position of Samogneux-Brabant. Their defensive works and
trenches having been destroyed or made useless, the French had no
cover. Fighting must now be carried on in the open. Often the French
artillery fired at point-blank range regardless of their own
sacrifices so long as they could mow down the enemy.

[Illustration: Fighting at Verdun up to March 1, 1916.]

Brabant was evacuated by the French during the night of February 22,
1916. At Samogneux, owing to the intensity of the German fire, they
remained on the defensive. Several counterattacks to the east were
carried out which greatly improved the French positions.

In the Wavrille sector the French had succeeded during the night in
connecting their new line with the Herbebois sector, though
incessantly bombarded. Wavrille Wood and Hill 351 must be protected,
for their capture would enable the Germans to sweep the Beaumont-Hill
344 line.

After repeated attacks the Germans captured Wavrille Wood, where they
were kept hemmed in by the French barrage and unable to proceed.
Fighting in the Herbebois sector had raged throughout the day, and
during the night the French were forced to withdraw.

When February 24, 1916, dawned the French line ran by Beaumont, the
northern edge of the Bois des Fosses, and covered La Chaume Wood. The
Germans continued to bombard the Woevre front, but did not attempt to
attack as the French artillery held them to their trenches.

During the day the Germans, who had been hemmed in at Samogneux, after
repeated struggles to debouch from that place, succeeded when night
came in capturing Hill 304.

From the southern edge of Caures Wood the Germans slowly advanced
through the heavily timbered ravines up the slopes of Anglemont Hill.
On the side of Fosses Wood they bombarded French positions all the
morning of February 24, 1916. East of Rappe Wood and to the north of
Wavrille Wood they assembled strong forces. Two French battalions
succeeded in carrying part of the wood, and were then held up by
machine-gun fire. Fosses Wood and Beaumont were deluged by German
shells of every caliber. An infantry attack gave the Germans the
southern edge of Wavrille Wood, where the French clung tenaciously.
Fosses Wood, then Beaumont, were captured, then La Chaume Wood. The
French situation had become serious. At 2.20 in the afternoon a large
force of Germans advanced between Louvemont and Hill 347, and though
the French made desperate efforts to stay the advancing waves, Les
Chambrettes, Beaumont, and Fosses and Caures Woods were occupied by
the enemy.

[Illustration: General Joffre conferring with General Pétain near
Verdun, where General Pétain's forces meet the assaults of the armies
of the Crown Prince in the battle for the fortress.]




PART IV--THE WAR AT SEA




CHAPTER XV

NAVAL SITUATION AT THE BEGINNING OF THE SECOND YEAR--SUBMARINE
EXPLOITS


Naval events such as the world had never known were believed to be
impending at the beginning of the war's second year. With the land
forces of the belligerents in a fierce deadlock, it seemed that a
decision must come upon the sea. Assuredly the Allies were willing,
and Germany had accomplished things in her shipyards that for sheer
determination and efficiency developed to the last degree, were
comparable to her finest deeds of arms. None doubted that she longed
with a grim hope for such a meeting. Helgoland and the newly enlarged
Kiel Canal were hives where an intensive industry kept every man and
vessel fit. And the navy grew while it waited.

It was not the work of a day, though, nor of a generation, to match
the sea power that Great Britain had spent centuries in building. Try
as she would, strain men, ordnance plants, and shipyards to the
breaking point, Germany could not catch up with her great rival. The
first half of the new year saw no matching of the grand fleets. It did
produce a few gallant combats, and was marked by a melancholy
succession of German submarine attacks on defenseless craft. The
sacrifice of lives among neutrals and the Allies cast a pall upon the
world.

Naval losses up to August 1, 1915, had been considerable on both sides
without crippling any one of the belligerents. No sooner was a
warship sunk than there were two to replace it. Every country engaged
took effective steps to preserve such maritime power as it had, and
Great Britain worked harder than any of the others, for her existence
depended upon it.

The first year of the conflict cost England thirty-two fighting craft,
great and small. France lost thirteen, Russia five, Japan three, a
total of fifty-three. The combined tonnage was 297,178. To
counterbalance this Germany lost sixty-seven war vessels, Turkey five
and Austria four, the seventy-six ships having an aggregate tonnage of
206,100. The difference of 91,078 gross tons in favor of Germany and
her partners in war was offset by the number of fast German cruisers
which fell victims to the Allies, and by the numerical inferiority of
the Central Powers' combined fleets.

On August 1, 1915, the naval situation was identical with that of
August 1, 1914. Great Britain, aided materially by France, and her
other allies, in a lesser degree, stood ready to do battle with the
Teuton sea forces whenever opportunity offered. She had won every
important engagement with the exception of the clash off the coast of
Chile, and could look calmly forward, despite the gnawing of German
submarines at her commerce. With every gun and man primed for the
fight, with the greatest collection of armed vessels ever known lying
at ports, merely awaiting the word, she felt supremely ready.

The lives of 1,550 persons were lost during the first year of the war
through the sinking of merchant ships, nearly all of which were
torpedoed. This applied to vessels of the Allies alone, twenty-two
persons having been lost with neutral ships. The total of tonnage
destroyed between February 18, 1915, when the German edict against
commercial vessels went into effect, and August 1, 1915, was 450,000
tons, including 152 steamships of more than 500 tons each. This was
the heaviest loss ever inflicted on the shipping of the world by any
war. But it did not seriously cripple the commerce of either France or
England, Germany's two major opponents. Their vessels continued to
sail the seven seas, bringing the products of every land to their aid,
while Germany and her allies were effectually cut off from practically
all resources except their own. Switzerland and Sweden were the main
dependence of Germany for contraband, and the activities of the former
were considerably restricted when the Entente Allies really settled
down to a blockade of Germany. Austria and impoverished Turkey had no
friends to draw upon, but must fight their battles alone except for
such assistance as Germany could lend, which did not extend beyond the
actual material of war--guns, shells and bullets.

The submarine was Germany's best weapon. She outmatched the Allies on
land, but in such a small degree that her most brilliant effort could
not win a decisive victory. Meanwhile her opponents grew stronger in
an economic way, while the situation in Germany became more strained.
By issuing a constantly increasing volume of bank notes against an
almost stationary gold reserve she depreciated the value of her mark
at home and abroad. In the face of this tangled situation her
submarines rendered incalculable aid, destroying and menacing allied
commerce. Without them Germany would have been helpless upon the sea,
would have ceased to exist as a maritime power. Her first-line ships
lay securely in their harbors, unable to venture forth and match the
longer-ranged, heavier-gunned vessels of the British, ably
supplemented by the French fleet.

Just how many submarines Germany possessed at the beginning of the war
cannot be stated. The number probably was in the neighborhood of
fifty. That she has lost many of these vessels and built even a larger
number is certain. As the conflict grew older Great Britain in
particular learned a method of combating them. It was estimated that
on August 1, 1915, she had 2,300 small craft specially fitted for
running down submarines. Private yachts, trawlers, power boats,
destroyers, and torpedo boats hunted night and day for the elusive
undersea boats of her enemy. The pleasure and fishing craft which had
been impressed into service were equipped with all sorts of guns, some
of them very old ones, but thoroughly capable of sinking a submarine.
These vessels patrolled the British coast with a zeal that cost
Germany dear. Some authorities believed that up to August 1, 1915,
upward of fifty German submarines had been sunk and more than a dozen
captured. The numbers probably are excessive, but if they had disposed
of even twenty-five undersea boats the effort was a distinct success.

In addition to this means of defense Great Britain embarked upon
another undertaking that truly was gigantic in its extent and the
difficulties imposed. She stretched wire nets for many miles under the
surface of the waters washing her shores. The regular channel routes
were thus guarded. Once within such a net there was no escape for the
submarine. The wire meshes fouled their propellers or became entwined
around the vessels in a way that rendered them helpless. The commander
must either come to the surface and surrender or end the career of
himself and crew beneath the waves. A number of submarines were
brought to the surface with their crews dead by their own hands.
Others were captured, and it is said that about twenty of these
vessels have been commissioned in the British navy.

The hazardous character of the work in which the submarine engaged and
the success of British defensive measures undoubtedly made it
difficult for Germany to man her new undersea craft. Special training
is essential for both crew and officers, and men of particularly
robust constitution are required. There have been reports that men
assigned to the German submarines regarded their selection as a
practical death warrant. Despite the fine courage of German sailors as
evidenced in this war, word filtered through the censorship that it
was becoming difficult for Germany to secure men for her submarines.

But the venturesome spirit of many German submarine commanders knew no
bounds. Previous to the period under consideration at least one
submarine had made its way from a German base to the Dardanelles,
establishing a record for craft of this sort that had seemed
impossible up to that time. During August other submarines made the
same trip without any untoward event. The Allies knew full well that
reenforcements were being sent to the Mediterranean, but seemed unable
to prevent the plan's success. This inability was to result in serious
losses to both the allied navies and their merchant shipping.

The first event during the month of August, 1915, that bore any naval
significance was the sinking of the British destroyer _Lynx_ on August
9, 1915, in the North Sea. She struck a mine and foundered within a
few minutes. Four officers and twenty-two men out of a complement in
the neighborhood of 100 were saved. The vicinity had been swept only a
day or two before for mines and it was believed that a German undersea
boat had strewn new mines which caused the loss.

Another British war vessel was sunk the next day. The auxiliary
cruiser _India_ fell prey to a submarine while entering the roads at
Restfjord, Sweden, on the steamship lane between England and
Archangel, Russia's northernmost port. Eighty of the crew, estimated
at more than 300 men, were saved by Swedish craft. The attack came
without warning and furnished another illustration of the submarine's
deadly effectiveness under certain conditions. The _India_, a
Peninsular and Oriental liner before the war, was well known to many
travelers. Built in 1896, she had a registry of 7,900 tons, and was in
the eastern service for a number of years.

After many months of idleness a clash came in the North Sea on August
12, 1915. The _Ramsay_, a small patrol vessel, met and engaged the
German auxiliary _Meteor_. Although outmatched, the British ship
closed with her foe and kept up the fight for an hour. The cannonade
attracted a flotilla of cruisers, which came up too late to save the
_Ramsay_, but which did succeed in cutting off the _Meteor_.

Four officers and thirty-nine members of the crew were picked up by
the Germans when their antagonist went down and these, together with
the crew of the _Meteor_, took to the German's boats when her
commander saw that escape was impossible. He blew up his ship and by a
combination of pluck, good seamanship, and a favorable fortune managed
to elude the cordon of British cruisers, reaching the German shore
with his prisoners. The total crew of the _Ramsay_ was slightly more
than 100 men.

Two successful attacks in four days on British war vessels, and the
loss of a third by a mine, stirred official circles, and demand was
made in the papers that redoubled precautions be taken. It was
believed that the adventure of the _Meteor_ into hostile waters
heralded further activity by the German fleet, but the days passed
without incident, and the British naval forces settled down to the old
routine of watching and waiting.

While these events were transpiring in the North Sea the British had
not been idle elsewhere. From the beginning of operations in the
Dardanelles attempts had been made to penetrate the Bosphorus and sink
one of the Turk's capital ships. A number of sailing vessels and one
or two transports had been sunk by British submarines in that sea, but
efforts to locate the larger warships of the enemy failed until August
9, 1915. On that day the _Kheyr-ed Din Barbarossa_, a battleship of
9,900 tons and a complement of 600 men, was sent to the bottom. The
attack took place within the Golden Horn, at Constantinople, and the
event spread consternation in the Turkish capital. It was the first
time on record that a hostile warship had penetrated the land-locked
waters of the Ottoman city, so favored by nature that attack had
seemed impossible there.

The _Barbarossa_, although an ancient ship as war vessels are rated,
carried four 12-inch guns and was a formidable fighting craft, having
been overhauled by German engineers about a year before the war
started. Along with the _Goeben_ and _Breslau_, which took refuge at
Constantinople on the outbreak of hostilities, and were "sold" to
Turkey, she constituted the Turk's chief naval arm.

News of the feat was received with enthusiasm in England, coming as
the initial achievement of the sort by a British submarine. It helped
salve the wounds to British pride, made by repeated disasters through
the medium of German undersea boats. The event was one of the few
bright episodes from an Ally standpoint in the campaign to capture
Constantinople, and was taken to mean that a new tide had set in for
the attackers. It did serve to clear the Sea of Marmora of Turkish
shipping, and supplies for the beleaguered forces at the tip of
Gallipoli Peninsula were henceforth carried by a single track railway
or transport. It also inspired a healthy respect among the Turks for
enemy submarines.

A few days later, August 16, 1915, another German submarine was to set
a new record. Early in the morning of that day the towns of
Whitehaven, Parton, and Harrington, on the western coast of England,
were aroused in succession by the boom of guns and the falling of
shells in their streets. It was believed for a few frenzied moments
that the German fleet had come. But merely one lone submarine had made
the attack. This was enough to cause considerable alarm, particularly
when it was seen that a gas plant at Whitehaven had caught fire. There
were other fires in the same town and at Harrington, none of which did
much damage.

Once more the undersea boat of the enemy had scored. Not since 1778
had the towns smelled hostile powder. In that year John Paul Jones
surprised the guards at Whitehaven during the night, spiked the guns
of its defenses, and prepared to burn a number of ships at anchor
there. The arrival of reenforcements frustrated this plan and the
American seamen were recalled to their vessels. Whitehaven never
forgot, and now it has a new chapter in its martial record.

The Turks were soon to have their revenge for the loss of the
_Barbarossa_ through the medium of a German submarine which, after
more than a year of war, accomplished one of the cherished plans of
the Germans--the sinking of a British troop ship. On August 17, 1915,
the _Royal Edward_, registering 11,117 tons, was hit and sunk in the
Ægean Sea. There were thirty-two officers and 1,350 troops aboard, in
addition to 220 officers and men of the ship's company. One thousand
were lost.

The blow was a hard one, coming after the efforts of the British navy
to protect the country's fighting men. It emphasized the new activity
by German submarines in the Mediterranean. No one believed for a
moment that Austria had ventured upon such an extensive campaign as
recent events pointed to. In addition to the one German submarine
known to have reached the Dardanelles via Gibraltar, it had been
reported that others were being brought overland to Pola and the parts
assembled there.

A good deal of mystery surrounds an engagement off the west coast of
Jutland on this same August 17th. Berlin announced that a fight began
at 2 o'clock in the afternoon between five German torpedo boats and a
light British cruiser and eight destroyers. It was alleged that the
cruiser and one destroyer foundered, without any loss to the German
force.

The British Admiralty was vague in its report of the encounter, saying
that the British ships were mine-sweepers, of which one failed to
return. Like many other incidents of the war at sea, the real facts
cannot now be established. But there is no doubt that a clash did take
place, and the German report was the more circumstantial.




CHAPTER XVI

THE SINKING OF THE ARABIC--BRITISH SUBMARINE SUCCESSES


While the diplomats were laboring with questions arising from the loss
of the _Lusitania_, at a moment when tension between the United States
and Germany was acute, came the sinking of the _Arabic_, on August 19,
1915, with the death of two Americans and thirty-odd British citizens
out of 391 persons aboard. The attack took place near Fastnet Light,
not far distant from the spot where the _Lusitania_ was sunk. Like the
latter ship the _Arabic_ was struck without warning, two torpedoes
penetrating her side. She was a vessel of 15,801 tons and, although in
service for a number of years, was rated as one of the first-class
Atlantic liners. Previous to the attack she had been chased on several
occasions by undersea craft, but had always managed to elude them.

The outcry that followed this event in the United States gave the
situation as regarded Germany a graver aspect than before. She had
been warned that this country would hold her to strict accountability
for the lives of its citizens. Berlin, asked if a submarine sank the
vessel, followed by immediate disclaimers of any belligerent intent.
It was alleged that a German submarine had been in the act of
attacking another British vessel when the _Arabic_ hove into view and
attempted to ram the submarine. In defense the latter's captain sank
the liner, Berlin explained.

This theory was not in the least acceptable to the United States.
Captain Finch of the _Arabic_ and other persons aboard had seen the
attack on the second ship, and the _Arabic_ attempted to flee but was
overhauled and torpedoed. The facts were attested to by such a number
of persons that there could be little doubt of their correctness. But
despite this and Germany's oft-repeated assurances of respect for
American lives, nothing of a positive character was done by the United
States. Negotiations dragged out to a wearisome length and the
submarines continued to take their almost daily toll from neutrals and
belligerents alike.

The British submarine _E-7_ was sunk by a Turkish land battery in the
Sea of Marmora on September 4, 1915, thirty-two men being lost. She
was the first undersea boat of the Allies to meet that fate in the
Dardanelles operations.

The combination of care and luck that had kept British transports
inviolate for more than a year, which ended with the sinking of the
_Royal Edward_, was to be reversed during the coming months when
German submarines inflicted heavy losses on this class of ships. The
Mediterranean proved to be the grave of several thousand men lost in
this manner. The _Ramazan_, of 3,477 tons, bringing native troops from
India, was torpedoed and sunk on September 19, 1915, in the Ægean Sea.
Out of about 1,000 men on board some 300 were landed at Malta. The
levy which she had aboard consisted of Sikhs and Gurkhas. The sea was
new to these men, drawn from interior provinces, and they had embarked
upon their first voyage with all the misgivings which usually
accompany that experience. The panic among them when the _Ramazan_ was
hit may well be imagined. Hints of it crept into the British press,
but it was said that after a few wild minutes the officers got their
men in hand and all died together with true British fortitude.

One of the few announcements made by Germany concerning lost
submarines was given out on September 27, 1915, whether for diplomatic
reasons or otherwise it would be difficult to say. The _U-27_, it was
said, had not been heard from since August 10, 1915, and was deemed to
have been sunk or captured. Berlin concluded with the observation that
the _U-27_ might have been destroyed after sinking the _Arabic_,
inasmuch as none of her commanders had reported the torpedoing of the
liner up to that date. It was Germany's plea at the time that she knew
nothing officially of the _Arabic's_ loss. The disappearance of the
_U-27_, a new and fast submarine having seventeen knots speed on the
surface, therefore, was a matter of diplomatic importance. The puzzle
never was answered.

For some unexplained reason Great Britain never resorted to submarine
attacks upon German shipping in the Baltic Sea until the fall of 1915.
While her own vessels were being sunk she spared those of her enemy,
either because the navy had not been prepared to undertake an
expedition into the Baltic, or because it had been looked upon as a
small issue in the face of graver problems. This situation was changed
by the German threat against Riga, Russia's important Baltic port,
following the fall of Libau and the progress of German troops in
Courland within cannon range almost of Riga.

It was determined to send a squadron of submarines into the Baltic as
a means of assisting Russia and for the purpose of stopping supplies
being sent to Germany from Sweden. Commanders of the undersea boats
were specifically directed to see that all passengers and crews were
taken off merchant ships before they were sunk. These orders were
carried out in detail, not a single noncombatant having lost his life
as a result of the operations that ensued.

The _E-13_, with several other submarines, was bound for the Baltic
when she ran aground. This was in Danish waters off the island of
Saltholm, between Copenhagen and Malmö. She struck early in the
morning and all efforts to gain open water failed. At five a. m. a
Danish torpedo boat appeared and informed the commander that
twenty-four hours would be given him to leave the three-mile zone.
Shortly afterward a German destroyer came up and remained close by
until two additional Danish torpedo boats reached the scene. The
German withdrew, but reappeared about nine o'clock, accompanied by a
second destroyer. The three Danish boats were close at hand, but
neither they nor the British crew had an inkling of what was to
follow.

One of the German destroyers hoisted a signal, but this was pulled
down so quickly that the _E-13's_ commander failed to read it. The
German then fired a torpedo at the helpless craft, which struck the
bottom near by without doing any damage. This was followed with a
broadside from every gun that could be brought to bear.

Realizing that escape was impossible the British commander gave orders
to abandon the ship and blow her up. When such of his men as were
still on their feet tumbled over the side, the Germans turned machine
guns and shrapnel upon them. A dozen men were killed or wounded before
a Danish boat of the trio on hand steamed into the line of fire and
stopped the slaughter. Both of the German destroyers retired.

This attack inflamed England from end to end. It was pointed out how
British sailormen so frequently had risked their lives to rescue
Germans in distress, and demand was made for reprisals. No direct
steps were taken toward that end, but the German navy soon was to
suffer losses from the companion boats of the _E-13_, which had
reached the Baltic safely.

Hard on the heels of the _E-13_ incident came formal complaint from
Germany that the British had pushed overboard survivors from a German
submarine sunk by a trawler. Men aboard the transport _Narcosian_ gave
the first news of this affair on reaching New Orleans after a trip
from England. They said that while the _U-27_ was parleying with the
_Narcosian_, preparatory to sinking her, an armed trawler came to
their aid and rammed the _U-27_, which sunk almost at once. Several of
the German sailors swam to the trawler and climbed over her sides.
They were thrown back and drowned, according to the _Narcosian_ crew's
testimony.

Representations upon this subject were made to Washington by the
German authorities, without any expectation that the United States
would take action, but merely to serve as a record and basis for
future action. The German press cried for revenge, and it was not long
until the Government itself talked broadly of similar treatment for
British prisoners. Great Britain suggested that a board of American
naval officers hear evidence in the case and render a decision,
providing that Germany would defend charges of a similar character.
From fighting, the two principal combatants had fallen to quarreling.
Germany refused the challenge and nothing came of the matter.

A large German torpedo boat was run down and cut in two by a German
ferryboat on October 15, 1915, not far from Trelleborg, Sweden. Both
vessels were running with all lights out when the accident took place.
Five men were saved and forty drowned.

The first fruits of the undertaking to clear the Baltic of German
shipping and interfere with the operations against Riga was the
sinking on October 24, 1915, of the _Prinz Adalbert_, an armored
cruiser of 8,858 tons. Of 575 men aboard less than 100 were saved. She
was the first big German warship to be blown up by a torpedo. True,
the _Blücher_ was so disposed of during the Dogger Bank fight,
mentioned in another volume, but she already had been disabled.

The submarine that ended the _Prinz Adalbert's_ career never was
identified, but she did her work well. Berlin announced that two
torpedoes struck the cruiser, both taking effect, and that she sunk in
a few minutes. The attack was made near Libau, according to the German
statement.

The British cruiser _Argyll_ stranded off the Scottish coast on
October 28, 1915, and broke up a few days later. The mishap occurred
during a storm, and all of her crew were rescued by other vessels. She
was of 10,850 tons burden, and carried a heavy armament. This same day
the _Hythe_, an auxiliary vessel, was sunk in a collision near
Gallipoli Peninsula, with a loss of twenty lives.

Turkish gunners destroyed the French submarine _Turquoise_ in the
Dardanelles on November 1, 1915. Her crew of thirty odd men were
killed or drowned. The incident took place at the narrowest point of
the passage into the Sea of Marmora.

November proved to be a bad month for the kaiser's naval forces.
During the first week the _U-8_ was lost in the North Sea. Berlin
reported that the vessel had stranded. Whether this version was
correct cannot be learned, the British policy of concealing submarine
captures, in order to befog Berlin, cutting off information from that
source.

This month also cost the British several ships. Torpedo boat _No. 96_
collided with another vessel near Gibraltar on November 2, 1915, and
sank before all of her crew could escape, eleven men being drowned.
The fifth of the month witnessed a successful attack by an enemy
submarine upon the armed merchantman _Tara_ of the British navy. She
was a vessel of 6,322 tons and carried from four to five hundred men,
of whom thirty-four lost their lives. The sinking of the _Tara_,
coupled with numerous attacks on merchant ships, proved that the
undersea fleet of Germany in the Mediterranean was becoming
formidable. Then began a painstaking search of the many small islands
off the Greek, Italian, and Turkish coasts for submarine bases.
Several were discovered and destroyed. A number of submarines also
were caught or sunk in the Mediterranean.

The _Undine_, a German cruiser having 2,636 tons registry, and a crew
of 275 men, was torpedoed in the Baltic November 7, 1915. She had been
convoying a fleet of merchant ships coming from Sweden when a British
submarine cut short her days. Nearly all of the crew were lost.

Germany now began to feel the pinch of undersea warfare. Sweden, most
friendly of neutral powers on the European continent, and a source of
endless supplies, was almost isolated from the Baltic side by the half
dozen British submarines in that sea. Unlike the British, the Germans
deemed it better to keep their vessels in port than risk destruction,
even in the face of conditions that approached starvation for the
poor. The string of vessels that had been bringing native Swedish
products to Germany, and others from the United States and elsewhere,
transshipped by the Swedes, were kept idle.

Search for the submarines that imperiled their last water link with
the outside world went zealously on. A number of small, fast patrol
boats and cruisers were assigned to the task. Thus it was that the
_Frauenlob_, a cruiser of 2,672 tons and some 300 men, came within the
range of a British submarine off the Baltic coast of Sweden on
November 7, 1915. She blew up and plunged to the bottom after a single
torpedo had been fired. Practically every man aboard was lost.

As may be well imagined these achievements of her own undersea boats
filled England with pride. It was almost a joy, except for the loss of
life, to see Germany suffer at a business in which she had caused such
distress to others. And the Empire was suffering acutely from the
suspension of connections with Sweden, as evidenced by the greater
haste to run down the elusive submarines that dogged her navy. More
vessels were assigned to the hunt. Every mile of shore line within the
German reach was searched for a possible base and the vessels in the
hunt kept a lookout on all sides for the telltale periscope.

The British lost another destroyer on November 9, 1915, during a storm
in the Mediterranean, a half dozen men being saved. And the Turks
accounted for a submarine on the 13th, when the _E-20_ was sunk by
land fire in the Sea of Marmora. Although Turkish craft had been
compelled to forego trips in those waters they proved to be most
unfriendly for allied submarines. With experience on the part of the
Turks came less respect for the undersea boats, a number of which were
hit by land batteries during the operations there.

Naval operations continued in this way without notable incident until
December 18, 1915. Then the cruiser _Bremen_ joined the other German
war vessels that had been sunk in the Baltic search. She registered
2,672 tons, and had about 300 men aboard. The attack took place near
the Swedish coast, and created such a sensation that the Swedes became
convinced the British had a submarine rendezvous on their shores, and
took a hand in the hunt. No evidence of a base could be found.

By this time German shipping had practically disappeared from the
Baltic and it never reappeared. The British tactics fully served
their purpose in this direction. And the few submarines rendered
effective aid in the defense of Riga, helping the Russians stem what
promised to be a dangerous onslaught. It would not be too much to say
that the arrival of the little fleet of undersea boats was a turning
point in the German drive along the Baltic, which overwhelmed Libau.
The Russian line stiffened before Riga with the aid of the navy and
the submarines. Riga was saved, perhaps Petrograd, which it guarded.

There was a considerable loss of life on December 28, 1915, when the
_Ville de la Ciotat_, a French channel steamer, became the mark of a
torpedo. Seventy-nine of her passengers and crew were drowned, the
survivors suffering severely from bad weather in open boats before
they reached land. A number of them afterward died of pneumonia.

The final tragedy of the year at sea took place on December 30, 1915,
shortly after one o'clock in the afternoon at a point 300 miles
northwest of Alexandria, Egypt, where the Peninsular and Oriental
liner _Persia_ was torpedoed. Like so many ships that had gone before
she sank immediately. Out of 241 passengers aboard only fifty-nine
were saved, while ninety-four men in a crew of 159 reached shore. This
aroused some criticism, but there was no evidence to show that the
crew had taken advantage of those intrusted to their protection.

No one saw the submarine that sank the _Persia_. She undoubtedly was
torpedoed, as it was scarcely reasonable that a stray mine had floated
to such an unfrequented spot. One American citizen, Robert Ney
McNeely, appointed consul to Aden, Egypt, lost his life. He was en
route to his post at the time and the United States Government found
itself facing another serious situation. Here was an American
official, bound on official business, killed by a friendly nation.
There the problem became more complex. It could not be proved to whom
the submarine belonged that attacked the ship; it could not even be
shown that she had been torpedoed. Germany flatly denied any hand in
the affair and Austria, after delay for reports from her submarines
commanders, likewise disclaimed responsibility. Official Washington
turned inquiring eyes upon Turkey. There were hints in the German
press that a Turkish boat torpedoed the vessel. Both Germany and
Austria had pledged themselves to respect the lives of noncombatants,
but Turkey, having never sank a passenger ship, was bound by no such
pledge. It even was hinted that Bulgaria might be the nation to blame.
She had entered hostilities on the side of the Teutonic Powers, and
was said to have at least one or two submarines.

Amid this welter of excuses, explanations and possibilities the United
States Government floundered for several weeks. Then it gave up the
problem and ruled that Mr. McNeely should have asked for a warship if
he wanted to reach Aden and there was no other way to go. The _Persia_
had several 4.7-inch guns aboard, which compromised her in the view of
Washington.

According to the British Admiralty thirty-nine unarmed steamships and
one trawler flying the Union Jack were sunk without warning by
submarines up to the end of 1915. Thirteen neutral steamships and one
sailing vessel were listed under the same heading. Of these, the
_Gulflight_ and _Nebraskan_ were American. The Norwegians lost four
steamships and the sailing craft, the Swedes four, the Danes one, the
Greeks one, and the Portuguese one. It was stated that several vessels
believed to have been sunk by submarines, where proof was lacking, had
not been taken into account.

Although this compilation included the _Lusitania_, the _Arabic_, and
other big vessels on which many lives were lost, the list seems of
small consequence in view of later raids upon allied and neutral
shipping by the German undersea boats. It was destined to reach an
ominous length in the succeeding months.




CHAPTER XVII

CRUISE OF THE MOEWE--LOSS OF BRITISH BATTLESHIPS


The cruise of the _Moewe_ stands out as one of the heroic, almost
Homeric achievements of the war. She left Bremerhaven on December 20,
1915, according to one of her officers who afterward reached the
United States, and calmly threaded her way through the meshes of the
British navy's North Sea net. After leaving the shelter of home
waters, with the Swedish colors painted on her hull, the _Moewe_
boldly turned her nose down the Channel. She answered the signals of
several British cruisers and on one occasion at least was saluted in
turn. Having a powerful wireless apparatus aboard, her commander,
Count zu Dohna-Schlobitten, a captain-lieutenant in the Imperial navy,
was able to keep up with the movements of British patrol vessels.
Several intercepted messages told of a strange white liner that
refused to answer questions. This was the _Moewe_, and before passing
into the Atlantic she had changed her coat to black. She was sighted
by probably a dozen British warships before reaching the North
Atlantic. By refusing to heed the signals of distant vessels, which
she had a good chance of outdistancing in a race, and showing every
courtesy to those close at hand, the raider made her escape.

The _Moewe_ had about three hundred men aboard. They were a picked
crew, and her commander a man of daring. Within a period of less than
three months he sunk fifteen merchant ships, captured the _Appam_ and
sent her to Norfolk, Va., then returned home with 199 prisoners and
$250,000 in gold bars. And he may have been responsible for the loss
of the British battleship _King Edward VII_, of 16,500 tons, which
struck a mine in the North Sea on January 9, 1916. It is certain that
the _Moewe_ left a chain of mines behind her on the outward voyage,
some of which undoubtedly caused loss to allied shipping.

Once past the British Channel fleet, the _Moewe_ struck for the
steamship lane off the Moroccan, Spanish, and Portuguese coasts. There
she was comparatively safe from pursuit, and so skillfully were her
operations carried on that it was many weeks before the fact became
known that a raider actually was abroad. But one by one overdue
steamships failed to reach their ports and suspicion grew. Either the
_Karlsruhe_ had returned to life as a plague upon allied shipping, an
able successor appeared, or a flotilla of giant submarines was at
large that could cruise almost any distance. Several vessels brought
tales to England of being chased by a phantom ship near the African
coast. But such stories had been repeated so many times without any
foundation that the British admiralty was in a quandary. To overlook
no clue, a flotilla of cruisers swept the seas under suspicion. They
came back empty handed.

At dawn, February 1, 1916, a big steamship passed into Hampton Roads,
disregarding pilots and the signals of other craft. She hove to at an
isolated spot and waited for daylight. When the skies cleared the
German naval flag was seen floating at her prow. Newport News could
scarce believe the report. Then the city remembered the
_Kronprinzessin Cecile_ and the _Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse_, both of
which had stolen in under cover of night from a raiding career.

But this was no raider. It was the _Appam_, a raider's victim. She had
sailed across the Atlantic from a point on the South African route,
held prisoner thirty-three days by a prize crew of twenty-two men and
one officer, Lieutenant Hans Berg, of the Imperial German Naval
Reserve. Aboard the _Appam_ were 156 officers and men, 116 of her own
passengers, 138 survivors of destroyed vessels, and twenty Germans who
had been en route to a prison camp in England when rescued. This large
company was cowed by the lieutenant's threat to shoot the first man
who made a hostile move, or to blow up the vessel with bombs if he saw
defeat was certain. And, like a good stage director, he pointed
significantly to rifles, bayonets, and bombs.

There were several notables among the prisoners, including Sir Edward
Merewether, Governor of Sierra Leone, and his wife. They were
homeward bound from his African post for a vacation when the _Moewe_
took the _Appam_. All of the persons aboard, save the Germans, were
released and the ship interned. Then followed a long wrangle as to the
status of the vessel, Germany claiming the right of asylum for a prize
by the terms of an old Prussian treaty with the United States. Great
Britain protested this claim and demanded that the ship be released.
Without actually affirming one or denying the other, the United States
allowed the _Appam_ to remain in German hands, enjoying the same
privileges as other interned ships.

The _Appam_ was a rich prize indeed. Having a registry of 7,781 tons,
she was a modern vessel throughout, having been employed for several
years in the trade between South Africa and England. She was worth
$1,000,000 stripped, while her cargo sold for $700,000. The $250,000
in gold bars which subsequently went into the Berlin strong box also
came from the _Appam_--a round $2,000,000. Altogether it was a very
good day's work for the _Moewe_.

Not till the _Appam_ arrived in the Virginia harbor was it positively
known that a raider had eluded the allied navies. The search that
followed was conducted on a broader scale and with more minute care
than any similar hunt of the war, but to no avail. On February 20,
1916, the _Westburn_, a British vessel of 3,300 tons, put into Santa
Cruz de Teneriffe, a Spanish port. She, too, had a German captor
aboard. One officer and six men brought in 206 prisoners from one
Belgian and six British ships. Having landed all of those on board the
German lieutenant in command asked for permission to anchor at a
different point, and, this being granted, steamed beyond the
three-mile limit, where the _Westburn_ was blown up. Long use of sea
water in her boilers caused the explosion, her commander said. He was
arrested along with his half dozen men, then paroled. It was the
fortune of war. Once more the Germans had won, the British lost.

Again word was passed that the _Moewe_ must be found. The British
public took her feats much to heart. They rivaled the finest
accomplishments of British sailormen in the days when privateers went
forth to destroy French commerce. But the _Moewe_ never was caught. On
the morning of March 5, 1916, she put into Wilhelmshaven with 4
officers, 29 marines and sailors, and 165 men of enemy crews as her
prisoners. And the gold bars were secure in the captain's safe.

Immediately a fervor of enthusiasm ran through Germany. The _Moewe_
was back after a trip of many thousand miles, with prisoners and
bullion aboard. She had sunk fifteen allied vessels--thirteen British,
one Belgian, and one French--with an aggregate tonnage of nearly
60,000. This had been accomplished in the face of her enemies'
combined sea power. The _Moewe_ first sailed through the blockade and
then came home again by the long way round. She skirted the whole of
Iceland to reach Wilhelmshaven safely, making a perilous voyage into
Arctic waters at the worst season of the year. All this and more the
German papers recounted with pardonable pride. It was said that
Germany had flung the gauntlet in the British face and escaped
unscathed.

Count zu Dohna-Schlobitten had the honor paid him of a visit from the
kaiser aboard his ship, where he received the Iron Cross. Wilhelm was
much pleased, as may be imagined, and the example of the count was
held up to the German navy as an illustration of what daring could
achieve.

The _Moewe's_ exploits evidently were part of a concerted plan.
Whether the raider actually sunk all of the vessels accredited to her
is a question that probably never will be answered. The evidence tends
to show that it was Germany's aim to create a fleet of auxiliaries in
the mid-Atlantic. It seems likely that the naval board in Berlin
conceived the idea of having a number of their interned vessels break
for the sea on a stated day and meet at a common rendezvous, or
undertake raiding upon their own account.

Whatever the plan, it was carried out in part. Two German liners
escaped from South American ports on February 12, 1916, and never were
heard from again, so far as the records go. They were the _Bahrenfeld_
and the _Turpin_. As the identity of the _Moewe_ already had been
established and allied warships were scouring the seven seas for her,
it appears plausible that the _Bahrenfeld_ and _Turpin_ both assumed
the same title, and that one or other of the vessels was taken to be
the original _Moewe_ by persons on ships which they sunk. Or one or
both may have been run down and the fact kept secret.

The _Bahrenfeld_ and _Turpin_ commanders were wily men. They told the
authorities at Buenos Aires, where the first named had sought asylum,
and Puenta Arenas, Chile, where the second was interned, that the
machinery of their ships was suffering from disuse, and requested
permission for a day's run in the neighboring waters that the engines
might have exercise. This was granted, and they quietly put to sea.
That was the last seen of them by the South American folk. But the
port officials at Rio de Janeiro were suspicious when the _Asuncion_
tried the same ruse. As she began to edge beyond bounds a shot across
her bow cut short the plan.

Both the _Bahrenfeld_ and the _Turpin_ were built in England, the
former having a registry of 2,357 tons, and the latter 3,301 tons.

The first day of the new year was marked by the explosion of the
British armored cruiser _Natal_ in an east-coast port. Three hundred
men of a crew numbering 700 were killed, the others escaping because
they had shore leave. Not a man on board lived to tell how the
explosion came. It was one of a mysterious chain that had shaken even
British nerves in the early days of the war when a half dozen warcraft
were blown up in home ports. The explosions were, in every instance,
extremely violent, literally blowing the vessels to bits. Several of
them were affirmed to have been accidental by the British admiralty,
which rendered that verdict upon the _Natal_, but these official
explanations never were convincing.

The _Natal_, a vessel of 3,600 tons, had but recently returned from
sea service and was in good condition throughout. The explosion that
rent her apart came in the quiet of the evening when the men either
were sleeping or preparing for supper. Suddenly there was a crash, and
the _Natal_ was no more. Such of her hull and superstructure as had
not been scattered in every direction sank beneath the surface of the
water.

Just nine days later the _King Edward VII_, a pre-dreadnought of
16,500 tons, collided with a mine in the North Sea and soon foundered.
She was a second-line ship of heavy battery and carried a crew of 777
men, all of whom were taken off before the big craft sunk. This was
one of the few instances in which there was no loss of life from mine
or torpedo explosions. The accident occurred at a time when the _King
Edward VII_ was accompanied by a number of other vessels, or most of
the men aboard probably would have been drowned. On a warship, even
more than a passenger vessel, it is impossible to carry enough boats
for all. The price of defeat in a naval action inevitably is death.
For this reason there was general thanksgiving in England that the
crew of the battleship had been saved, even though the ship was lost.

During the month of January, 1916, three British sailing vessels and
ten steamships were sunk by enemy warships, with a respective tonnage
of 153 and 31,481. Four hundred and ten lives were lost. Three
steamships struck mines and foundered in the same month, having a
tonnage of 3,357. Two persons died in the trio of accidents.

The _Amiral Charner_, an old but serviceable French armored cruiser of
4,680 tons, was torpedoed in the Mediterranean near Syria on February
8, 1916. She went down within a few minutes, although about a hundred
men managed to reach the lifeboats and rafts. The weather was bitterly
cold, and only one survivor lived to bring the news. He was picked up
on a raft with fourteen dead companions and told an incoherent story
that bore little relation to the truth. But it was only too easy to
guess what had happened.

During the early period of the war the French navy escaped the heavy
blows that fell upon the British, partly because Germany concentrated
on her larger antagonist's navy, and partly due to the fact that the
British ships were nearly all engaged in the Atlantic, while the
French confined themselves more especially to the Mediterranean. With
the opening of operations at the Dardanelles and the coming of German
submarines the losses of the French sea forces began to grow rapidly.
But they held the Mediterranean against all attacks.

The _Arethusa_, which torpedoed the _Blücher_ after she had been put
out of action by the _Lion_ in that famous fight, collided with a mine
near the east coast of England on February 14, 1916. She went down
with a loss of ten men, neighboring vessels doing notable rescue work.
The _Arethusa_ was a cruiser of 3,600 tons and had taken an active
part in all of the work that fell to the British fleet. She was one of
the pet ships of the navy, having a reputation for speed and luck that
made her name familiar to readers the world over. A half dozen brushes
with the enemy had found her well up in the fighting line, and she was
said by sailormen to have a charmed existence, never having been hit.
But she sunk quickly after striking the mine. The passing of so
gallant a ship was one of the chief developments of the month in its
naval history.

The Peninsular and Oriental liner _Maloja_ was blown up in the Channel
on February 28, 1916, supposedly by a mine. The loss of life was
large, 147 persons being drowned.




CHAPTER XVIII

CONTINUATION OF WAR ON MERCHANT SHIPPING--ITALIAN AND RUSSIAN NAVAL
MOVEMENTS--SINKING OF LA PROVENCE


Throughout the months of January and February, 1916 while negotiations
between Germany and the United States were in a critical stage, the
submarine war on merchant shipping continued with little abatement.
Seeing that her armies could thwart the Allies' offensive efforts, but
were unable to crush any one of the larger powers, Germany turned
longing eyes to the sea. There was much talk of risking a major
engagement. The kaiser's naval advisers worked feverishly with figures
and plans. An echo of this scarce suppressed excitement crept into the
German press, and was duly noted in London and Paris.

One of the principal German journals came out with a frank discussion
of the elements involved and the chances of success. It was said that
three possibilities lay open. The first contemplated an attack upon
the Allies' flank in Flanders, made from the sea, to coordinate with a
drive on land. Another section of the fleet would try to hold off the
British until the action was over or, failing that, combine forces
with the first squadron and stake the Empire's fortune on the result
of a general battle.

The second plan provided for a dash to sea with the purpose of running
the blockade and effecting a junction with the Austrians in the
Mediterranean, to be followed by an attack upon the Suez Canal. A land
attack was to take place at the same time. The third scheme called for
minor raids on exposed points by the two fleets and relentless
submarine activities.

This estimate was not far short of the actual plans before the German
naval authorities. Their realization of the pressing need for action,
the tightening blockade, and the desperate possibilities of defeat,
made them a trifle unwary. News was flashed abroad many times that
revealed this state of mind. For instance, on February 20, 1916, it
was announced that cooperative action at sea had been settled upon in
accord with the proposals of Archduke Charles Stephen and Prince Henry
of Prussia, the kaiser's brother. Such information, whether genuine or
not, could only make the Allies redouble their watch.

Early in February, 1916, it was established that 70,000 naval
reservists had been gathered at Kiel and Helgoland ready for duty on
auxiliary vessels and cruisers of newly-formed squadrons. Many facts
that pointed to Germany's resolution in the face of odds never reached
America. The Ally censors kept Germany's secret well. But the whole
world expected that a big engagement would be fought any day. The
intervening hours, almost the minutes, might be counted.

[Illustration: Kiel Canal.]

Then Germany changed her mind. She gave notice that after March 1,
1916, a new submarine campaign would be launched. Certain concessions
were granted to the demands of the United States, but it was proposed
to consider many vessels as warcraft that other nations regarded as
merchant ships. It was agreed that warning should be given passenger
vessels unless they made an offensive move. This broad ruling gave
Germany a free hand, at least from her own standpoint.

The new campaign was widely advertised, a succession of brusque
threats and veiled insinuations leading up to a fine climax of
publicity. The tactics were those of diplomacy and the drama, with the
world for an audience.

But the campaign failed to accomplish what had been claimed for it.
The number of vessels lost did not materially increase, nor did allied
shipping halt. No matter what efforts Germany has made the ports of
her enemies never have closed--have in reality been far busier than
before the war. And the British navy's nets and traps, and her
thousands of patrol boats made the submarine commanders' task ever
more difficult. Within a few weeks after the latest German policy was
in effect the Allies could again breathe easy. Casualties at sea
continued, but there was no general destruction as had been promised.

The principal achievement of Italy's navy in the war has been the
protection of her coast line. Indisputably she has dominated the
Adriatic, bottling up the Austrian fleet at Pola. Not a single
engagement, worthy the name, has been fought in that narrow strip of
water, only forty-five miles wide at its southern extremity, ninety at
the northern end and 110 at the widest point. Across this limited
space Italy has transported about 200,000 troops, with the loss of but
two transports, the _Mari Chiaro_ and the _Umberto_, both of which
were small. A good part of the Serbian and Montenegrin armies were
carried to places where they might recuperate, and a considerable
force of her own troops landed on the coast of Albania. This was
accomplished in defiance of Austria's numerous submarines, which never
have achieved anything like the success of the German undersea craft.

After Italy's entrance into the war Austrian squadrons of light
cruisers and destroyers shelled several coast cities. But these
attacks soon ceased and all of the 500 miles of Italy's Adriatic
shore, dented as it is with small harbors and flanked by many islands,
has been strangely immune from enemy depredations. This is a tribute
to the Italian navy that cannot be easily explained. The Italian
censorship, stricter than that of any other belligerent power, has let
through almost nothing about her naval activities. The Austrians
simply have refused to fight, preferring to keep their warcraft safe
in the harbor at Pola rather than risk the fortune of battle.

During the period under review in this volume the Italians lay and
waited for their foe as they had done for weary months. Nothing
happened. A few merchant ships, sailing vessels for the most part,
were torpedoed, but there was no attempt by the Austrians to sink
enemy warships. Italy kept up her vigil and the Austrians dozed in
their strong harbor at Pola.

When Bulgaria cast her lot with Germany the Russian Black Sea fleet
shelled Dedeagatch and other Bulgarian coast cities, damaging
fortifications, destroying shipping in the harbors and causing a few
casualties among troops and citizens. These demonstrations were taken
to herald a landing of soldiers on the Bulgar coast, but this expected
event never developed. Russia, having abundant troubles in other
quarters, has been in no position to undertake an invasion of her
newest foe's territory.

While allied vessels were pounding the forts at the Dardanelles it was
reported several times that the Russians would cooperate in a grand
assault, endeavoring to reduce the Black Sea defenses of the Ottoman
capital. The fortifications there were shelled a few times and various
cities on the Asiatic shore of the Turks have been bombarded. But all
of this work was desultory, having no special purpose and
accomplishing little. Turkish shipping was driven from the Black Sea
in the early days of the war, although a few transports and supply
vessels have made the hazardous trip to Trebizond and other Turkish
ports. The Russian fleet has taken heavy toll among such craft and to
all purposes pinned the Turk to his side of the sea, while enjoying
all of its privileges.

The successful operations of the Russian Caucasian army in the first
months of 1916 and the movement down the Black Sea coast was aided by
the fleet, which brought supplies across the sea to newly won points
and prepared the way for an attack upon Trebizond. That city is of
considerable importance, being a military base and having a number of
industries. It was a busy port before the war began and would be a
valuable rallying point for future operations against Constantinople.
All signs indicated a Russian offensive with Trebizond as its
immediate objective. The harbor's fortifications already had been
damaged by the Russian fire, and the fleet undoubtedly could cooperate
in any attack upon the city.

The Turkish navy, like the Austrian, kept to home waters. Scarcely a
month passed that engagements were not reported between the _Goeben_
and _Breslau_ with vessels of the enemy. Many of these were
circumstantial, one of which recounted a long range fight between the
_Goeben_ and Russian warships, in which the _Goeben_ was said to have
been severely damaged. According to subsequent reports a great hole in
her hull was patched with cement, armor plate being unavailable in
Constantinople.

Losses inflicted upon British shipping up to the end of February,
1916, were slightly under 4 per cent of the vessels flying the British
flag, and a shade more than 6 per cent in point of tonnage. The loss
of the other Allies, on a basis of tonnage, was as follows: France, 7
per cent; Russia, 5 per cent; and Italy, 4-1/2 per cent.

How heavy the hand of war has fallen upon neutrals may be judged from
a comparison of sea casualties. Italy lost twenty-one steamers with a
gross tonnage of 70,000 in the period before the reader, while Norway,
a neutral, lost fifty steamers having an aggregate tonnage of 96,000,
more than 25 per cent larger. Total allied shipping losses numbered
481 steamships having a tonnage of 1,621,000, and fifty-seven sailing
vessels, with a tonnage of 47,000. One hundred and forty-six neutral
craft were sunk, whose tonnage reached 293,375, while sailing vessels
to the number of forty-two, with a tonnage of 24,001, were lost.
Germany's methods cost innocent bystanders among the nations almost
one-fifth of the damage done to her foes' commercial fleets.

Inclusive of trawlers, 980 merchant craft had been sunk by the end of
February, of which 726 were vessels of good size. It was destruction
upon a scale never seen before, an economic pressure that made former
wars seem mere tournaments. And Germany's most desperate attempts
failed to accomplish her end--the halting of allied commerce. Although
it was mathematically certain that a percentage of the ships sailing
every day would be torpedoed, the world's trade went on in the usual
channels.

There was a brighter side to the situation. "After more than a year of
war," says a British admiralty statement, "the steam shipping of Great
Britain increased eighty-eight vessels and 344,000 tons. France at the
end of 1915 was only short nine steamers and 12,500 tons of the
previous year's total. Italy and Russia both show an increase in
tonnage.

"It is therefore clear that the shortage of tonnage is due not to the
action of submarines, but to the great requirements of the military
and naval forces. The latest published statement of these show that
they are demanding 3,100 vessels."

Another turn was given to the controversy over sea laws during the
first quarter of 1916 by the arming of many British and a considerable
proportion of Italian passenger vessels. Earlier in the war a few
British ships came into New York harbor with guns aboard, but they
were forced to abandon the plan because of American protests. The
second attempt was different and so were the circumstances. Germany
had shown a disregard for the helplessness of passenger craft that did
not permit of forcible objection to the adoption of defensive methods
by such vessels. The Italians, in particular, displayed a resolute
spirit. Diplomatic hints had no weight at Rome and one after another
the Italian liners came into New York with trim three-inch pieces fore
and aft. They had a most suggestive look and were manned by crews
trained in the navy. Not since the days of open piracy had armed
merchant ships been seen in American waters. Their presence recalled
the time when every ship that sailed was prepared to fight or run as
necessity might dictate.

Germany flatly refused to consider merchantmen with guns aboard as
anything but warships, and gave notice that she would sink them
without warning. Once more the relations of Germany and the United
States reached a point that bordered on an open break. Although this
never quite happened, the United States temporizing and the kaiser's
agents granting just enough to prevent a rupture, the situation was
exceedingly delicate. American contentions ultimately were met by the
promise that armed craft would not be attacked unless they made an
offensive move. This left things as they had been before. There was no
world court to decide what an offensive move meant, nor to enforce a
decision.

The White Star line announced in the closing week of February, 1916,
that passenger service between the United States and England would be
discontinued until further notice. This meant that all of the
company's ships had been requisitioned for the carrying of munitions.
It betokened a more intensive preparation for the prosecution of the
war by England and her Allies. It also pointed to the swelling tide of
supplies flowing from America.

France was to sustain the supreme affliction of the war at sea on
February 26, 1916. _La Provence_ was sunk that day. She had sailed
from Marseilles with 3,500 soldiers and a crew of 500 men, bound for
Saloniki. A torpedo sent her to the bottom, along with 3,300 of those
on board, representing the greatest tragedy of the sea in history. The
attack took place in the Mediterranean and the big liner plunged
beneath the waves in less than fifteen minutes after she had been
struck.

Few vessels enjoyed such fame as the _La Provence_. Built in 1905, she
broke the transatlantic record on her first trip across, defeating the
new _Deutschland_ of the Hamburg-American line in a spectacular dash
that brought her from Havre to New York hours ahead of the best
previous record. With a registry of 19,000 tons and engines generating
30,000 horsepower she was a ship of exceptional grace. Not until the
_Lusitania_ came into service did the _La Provence_ surrender her
distinction of being the fastest vessel afloat, and strangely enough
both she and the _Lusitania_ were to fall victims of German
submarines.

When the torpedo that cost so many lives exploded within the hull of
the _La Provence_, killing a good part of the engineroom crew, it was
seen that only a few of her large company could escape. Lifeboats,
rafts, and the makeshift straws to safety that could be seized upon in
emergency accommodated a bare 700 and odd men. The troops gathered on
the upper decks and sang the "Marseillaise" as the great hull settled
in the water. Officers embraced their men, some indulged in a last
whiff of tobacco, others prayed for the folks at home. Commandant
Vesco stood on the bridge and directed the launching of the few boats
that got away. Then, as the vessel came even with the waves, he tossed
his cap overboard and cried: "Adieu, my boys." As one man they
answered:

"Vive la France."




PART V--THE WAR ON THE EASTERN FRONT




CHAPTER XIX

SUMMARY OF FIRST YEAR'S OPERATIONS


After the last days of that fateful July, 1914, had passed, bringing
mobilization in Austria-Hungary, Serbia, and Russia, and the outbreak
of war between the former two countries, the dance of death was on. On
August 1, 1914, Germany ordered the general mobilization of its
armies, and on the same day declared war against Russia. Within a few
days the first Russian advance into East Prussia began under the
leadership of Grand Duke Nicholas, who, by a special order of the
czar, had been made commander in chief of all Russian forces on August
3, 1914. Germany, fully occupied with its advance into Belgium and
France, offered hardly any resistance, and its forces, consisting
almost exclusively of the few army corps permanently stationed along
its eastern border and reenforced only by local reserves, advanced
only in a few places, and there only for short distances, into Russian
territory.

On August 5, 1914, Austria-Hungary, too, declared war against Russia,
and the next day brought immediately engagements along the frontier of
the two countries, which, however, did not develop seriously for some
time. The Russian advance into East Prussia had reached Marggrabova by
the 15th, and from then on proceeded fairly rapidly during the
following week. Memel, Tilsit, Insterburg, Königsberg, and
Allenstein--to name only a few of the more important cities of East
Prussia--were either threatened with occupation by the Russian forces
or had actually been occupied by them. The entire Mazurian Lake
district in the southeast of the Prusso-Russian border region was
overrun with Russian troops. But about August 22, 1914, Germany awoke
to the danger of the Russian invasion. General von Hindenburg was put
in command in the east, and in the battle of Tannenberg, which lasted
from August 22 to 27, 1914, inflicted a disastrous defeat on the
Russian armies, capturing tens of thousands of its soldiers and
driving as many more to their deaths in the swamp lands of the
Mazurian Lakes. Not only did this end for the time the Russian
invasion of Germany, but the latter country's armies followed the
retreating enemy a considerable distance into his own territory.

But although such important points as Lodz and Radomsk were occupied
during the last days of August and the first days of September, the
German advance into South Poland quickly collapsed. In the meantime
the Russians had successfully invaded Galicia, and by September 3,
1914, the Austro-Hungarians evacuated Lemberg. In the north, too, the
Russian forces had resumed the offensive and once more were invading
East Prussia. But they were again beaten back by Von Hindenburg on
September 10-11, 1914, and, four days later, on September 15, 1914,
suffered another serious defeat in the Mazurian Lakes. The Galician
invasion, however, was meeting with great success. By September 16,
1914, the important Austrian fortress of Przemysl--sixty miles west of
Lemberg--had been reached and its siege begun. By September 26, 1914,
the Russians had reached the Carpathian Mountains and were flooding
the fertile plains of the Bukowina, threatening an imminent invasion
of Hungary itself.

The first week of October, 1914, brought a third invasion of East
Prussia which, however, did not extend as far as the two preceding it,
and which was partly repulsed before October was ended. In the
meantime Austria had called upon Germany for immediate help in
Galicia, and by October 2, 1914, strong German-Austrian forces had
entered Poland in order to reduce the Russian pressure on Galicia,
reaching the Upper Vistula on October 11, 1914, and advancing against
Poland's capital, Warsaw. On the same day the siege of Przemysl was
lifted, after a Russian attempt to take it by storm had been
successfully beaten off a few days earlier. Throughout the balance of
October, 1914, the heaviest kind of fighting took place in Galicia and
the Bukowina. In the latter district the Austro-Hungarian troops were
successful, and on October 22, 1914, reoccupied Czernovitz in the
northeastern part of the province.

By November 7, 1914, the Russians were back again in East Prussia, but
encountered determined resistance and suffered a series of defeats.
However, although they were repulsed in many places, they succeeded in
retaining a foothold in many others. At the same time very strong
Russian forces had advanced from Novo Georgievsk across the Vistula
toward the Prussian provinces of Posen and Silesia. In the face of
these the Austro-Hungarian-German forces immediately gave up their
attempted advance against Warsaw and retreated beyond their own
borders into Upper Silesia and West Galicia. By the middle of November
an extensive Russian offensive was under way along the entire front.
Nowhere, however, did it meet with anything but passing success. In
East Prussia and in North Poland the Germans won battle after battle
and steadily advanced against Lodz. About November 22, 1914, it looked
as if the tide was going to turn in favor of the Russian arms. One
German army group seemed completely surrounded to the northeast of
Lodz. But, although losing a large part of its effectiveness, it
managed to break through the Russian ring and to connect again with
the other German forces by November 26, 1914. At the same time heavy
fighting occurred around Cracow and in the Bukowina where the Russians
again occupied Czernovitz on November 27, 1914.

Lodz fell on December 6, 1914. On the 7th the Russians were again
repulsed in the Mazurian Lakes region. Throughout that month and
January, 1915, very severe fighting took place in the Carpathian
Mountains, and by the end of January, 1915, the Austro-Hungarian
forces were in possession of all the passes, but had not been able to
drive the Russians from the north side of the mountains. In the
meanwhile the Russians were pressing their attacks against East
Prussia with renewed vigor and greatly augmented forces, and by
February 7, 1915, had again advanced to the Mazurian Lakes. In a
battle lasting nine days, Von Hindenburg once more defeated the
Russian army and drove it back into North Poland, inflicting very
heavy losses. At the end of another week, February 24, 1915, the
Russians had been driven out of the Bukowina.

Von Hindenburg had followed up his new success at the Mazurian Lakes
with a drive into North Poland, undoubtedly with the object of
invading Courland. Hardly had it gotten under way when the Galician
fortress of Przemysl was forced to surrender on March 22, 1915. This
not only gained for the Russians a large booty in prisoners,
munitions, and equipment, but also released the great army that had
been besieging the fortress. It was thrown immediately against the
Austro-Hungarian forces in Galicia, who were driven back again rapidly
into the Carpathian Mountains. Again Austria appealed to Germany for
help. General von Mackensen was sent to the rescue with an army made
up largely from troops taken from Von Hindenburg's forces. Thereby the
latter again was forced to stop further operations in the north. Von
Mackensen's combined Austro-Hungarian-German armies had an immense
supply of guns and munitions, both of which were beginning to run
short in the Russian army. With these they blasted away Russian line
after line, driving the Russians finally almost completely out of
Galicia, after retaking Przemysl on June 3, 1915, and Lemberg on June
24, 1915.

In the north, in the meantime, the Germans had received reenforcements
filling the gap that Von Mackensen's Galician operations had caused.
With these they invaded Courland while other forces landed on the Gulf
of Riga. With these two groups they pushed south and soon connected
with Von Hindenburg's army before Novo Georgievsk and Warsaw. The
latter had been there practically ever since early in January, 1915,
when after the fall of Lodz it had gradually advanced against Poland's
capital, but was held within seven miles of it along the Bzura and
Rawka Rivers, where many bloody engagements were fought.

At the same time that these two groups formed a junction Von Mackensen
came up with his forces from the south, taking Zamost and Lublin and
investing Ivangorod. Immediately the drive for Warsaw began from all
sides. Pultusk, on the Nareff, fell on July 25, 1915, and on July 30,
1915, the Russians began the evacuation of Warsaw and retreated toward
a very strongly fortified line that had been prepared and ran from
Kovno south through Grodno and Brest-Litovsk.




CHAPTER XX

THE FALL OF THE NIEMEN AND NAREFF FORTRESSES


The 5th of August, 1915, was a fateful day for the Russian armies. The
fall of Warsaw, on that date, was confirmed by the occupation of
Poland's ancient capital by German forces under the command of Prince
Leopold of Bavaria, brother of King Ludwig III of Bavaria and
son-in-law of Emperor Francis Joseph of Austria-Hungary. This in
itself would have been a severe setback to the Russian arms. But the
consequences which this event was bound to have were of even greater
importance.

In an earlier part of this work we heard at some length of the
arrangement of Russia's girdle of fortresses which--to repeat only the
most important--stretched from Kovno in the north through Oliha,
Grodno, Ossovetz, Lomza, Osholenka, and Novo Georgievsk to powerful
Warsaw and from there to the south and east to Ivangorod and
Brest-Litovsk. These permanent fortifications were supported by strong
natural barriers or obstacles in the form of rivers. The Niemen, Bobr,
Nareff, Vistula and Bug, with their interminable windings, made more
difficult to cross in some places by extensive swamp lands, had,
together with the fortified places, offered ideal means for strong
defense. Again and again, throughout the first thirteen months of the
war, German and Austrian troops had driven the Russian forces back to
these defensive lines--but no farther. Behind this shelter the
Russians were able to recuperate from the severest reverses and,
thanks to a very extensive and comparatively scientific network of
railways, reserves and reenforcements could be brought up from
interior points until armies which apparently had been beaten to a
standstill emerged again, stronger than ever in number and equipment,
to undertake a new offensive against the German masses.

Just previous to the fall of Warsaw the eastern front, roughly
speaking, was formed by the two sides of an equilateral triangle, with
the northern side starting from a point on the Gulf of Riga, about
forty miles northwest of Riga, and with the southern side starting
from Chotin on the River Dniester in Russian Bessarabia, very close to
the point where that Russian province touches Rumania and Galicia. The
apex was at Warsaw. When this apex caved in with the withdrawal of the
Russians, it followed logically that something had to happen to the
two lines that met there. That the Russians retreated from Warsaw on
account of some insurmountable difficulties which made the further
holding of this most important center impossible, is quite clear. It
has been established by now, almost beyond all doubt, that this step
became necessary because of insufficient munitions. But whether this
is so or not, it still remained true that whatever caused their
retreat from Warsaw would exert a similar influence on their capacity
to hold their second line of permanent fortifications. And events
immediately following the fall of Warsaw proved this contention.
Backward and backward fell the Russian lines during the following
weeks until by the end of October, 1915, the two sides of the
erstwhile triangle had disappeared entirely, and the Russian front was
found now along the base of the triangle stretching from Riga through
Friedrichstadt, through a point somewhat west of Dvinsk, thence almost
due south, skirting Pinsk slightly to the east, and again running
south in front of Rovno, entering Galicia at a point about halfway
between Zlochoff and Tarnopol, and following, slightly to the west,
the River Sereth to a point on the Dniester only a few miles west from
where it had ended in August, 1915.

How immense a loss this involved for the Russians can be easily seen
by a glance at a map. The territory that fell into German hands
exceeded 50,000 square miles, with millions of inhabitants, containing
some of the most valuable railway lines from a strategic point of
view, and including besides Warsaw such important places as Mitau,
Kovno, Vilna, Grodno, Bialystok, Brest-Litovsk, Ivangorod, Cholm,
Kovel, Pinsk. Though the Russians destroyed many of the railways,
drove off men and cattle alike, and moved vast quantities of supplies,
equipment, and valuables of all kinds, the time and the facilities at
their disposal were so insufficient that the victorious German armies
were bound to find still untold quantities of all these. The outbreak
of winter, it is true, finally halted the German advance, the force of
which gradually would have spent itself anyhow on account of the
ever-lengthening lines of communication with its bases. In spite of
this, however, it is next to miraculous that the Russians were at all
able to form a new line and to withdraw beyond this line, after all,
the largest part of their forces. This accomplishment was only a
renewed proof of the remarkable ability of the Russian leaders at
least along one line--the orderly withdrawal of immense masses. It
also showed once more the wonderful resiliency of the Russian armies
and the immense advantages which are to be derived from a practically
inexhaustible supply of men.

Almost as remarkable as the compactness and efficiency of the Russian
retreat was the swiftness and insistency of the German advance.
Throughout the German offensive leading up to and following the fall
of Warsaw the German armies in the north and center of the eastern
front cooperated closely with the Austrian forces in the south. This
must be borne in mind as well as the fact that for this entire
campaign the General Staffs of the Central Powers had conceived one
plan, according to which all their armies proceeded. This frequently
necessitated the halting of the advance on one or more points in order
to enable some other army at some other point to overcome obstacles
which had proved more difficult. Considering the immense extent of the
eastern front--which from considerably over 700 miles at the
beginning of August, 1915, gradually shortened to about 600 miles by
the end of October, 1915--it is little short of marvelous that the
German-Austrian offensive should at no time have lost its cohesion. In
order to get a clearer perspective of the somewhat complicated
operations of a large number of separate army units, we will divide
the entire eastern front into three sections and follow separately the
operations of each.

In the north--from the Gulf of Riga to Novo Georgievsk--Marshal von
Hindenburg was in command. Under him there were four armies, each
under a German general: that under Von Bülow in the extreme north;
that under Von Eichhorn to the south of the former and facing the
Niemen River and the fortress of Kovno; the two other armies under Von
Scholtz and Von Gallwitz--the latter the farthest south--were to
attack the Nareff-Bobr line between Novo Georgievsk and Lomza.

The central group was under the command of Field Marshal Prince
Leopold of Bavaria and was reenforced by another army under General
von Woyrsch, which previous to the fall of Warsaw had been fighting
more independently somewhat to the south and, a day before the fall of
Warsaw, had forced the strong fortress of Ivangorod on August 4, 1915.

The southern group was originally exclusively Austro-Hungarian. But
during the early summer of 1915 a German army under General von
Mackensen had been sent into Galicia to cooperate with the Austrian
forces in freeing Przemysl and Lemberg after they had assisted in
throwing back the left wing of the Russian forces then fighting in
Galicia and in forcing them to relinquish their hold on the mountain
passes of the Carpathians. This problem having been solved, these
mixed Austro-Hungarian-German forces were rearranged and reenforced,
and, under the command of Von Mackensen, were to attack the retreating
Russians around Brest-Litovsk. The left wing of this group was under
the command of Archduke Joseph Ferdinand. To the southeast of this
entire group was another army under the Austrian General
Pflanzer-Baltin, which in the early summer (1915) had driven the
Russians out of the Bukowina.

On August 8, 1915, the attack on Kovno was begun. At the same time the
German forces advanced against Lomza and still farther south advanced
nearer and nearer to the Warsaw-Bialystok-Vilna-Petrograd railroad,
their main objective for the present. All these advances found serious
opposition at the hands of the Russians, who successfully attempted to
hold up the enemy everywhere in order to insure the safety of their
retreating armies. On August 10, 1915, the Russians attempted an
unsuccessful sortie from Kovno. Farther south, as far as Lomza, the
Russian forces continued their retreat, fighting continuous rear-guard
actions for the purpose of delaying the hard-pressing enemy, who,
however, gradually came closer and closer to the Nareff-Bobr line. Of
course the losses on both sides throughout this continuous fighting
were severe. The Russians lost thousands of men by capture, for
although they succeeded in withdrawing, practically intact, the
principal parts of their armies before the Germans could come up in
strong enough numbers to risk attacks, smaller detachments here and
there lost contact with the main body and fell in the hands of the
Germans and Austrians, so that there passed hardly a day when the
official reports did not contain some claims about a few thousand men
having been captured.

South of the Niemen the Russians attacked Von Eichhorn's army along
the Dvina River, but were thrown back with severe losses. On August
11, 1915, Von Scholtz's group occupied the bridgehead at Vilna, which
had been stubbornly defended until the Russian retreat had progressed
far enough to make its further possession unessential. The same forces
succeeded in crossing the Gac River, south of the Nareff, capturing
during three days' fighting almost 5,000 men. Von Gallwitz with his
army stormed on the same day Zambroff and then pressed on through
Andrzejow toward the east. South of the Nareff, toward the Bug and
Brest-Litovsk, the fighting continued throughout the following days.
Wherever possible the Russians resisted, and every little stream was
used by them to its utmost possibilities in delaying the advance of
the enemy. On August 13, 1915, a strongly fortified position in the
Forest of Dominikanka fell into German hands. On the same day an
outlying fortified position north of Novo Georgievsk had to surrender
and other forces fighting between the Nareff and Bug reached the Slina
and Nurzets Rivers. The latter was crossed late on August 15, 1915,
after the most severe kind of fighting.

Kovno's garrison attempted on that day another unsuccessful sortie,
resulting in the capture of 100 men and in slight gains on the part of
the besieging forces. The latter success was also repeated before Novo
Georgievsk. By this time the general retreat, and the ever-increasing
pressure on the part of the advancing enemy made itself felt even in
the most northern part of the Russian line. There, as well as in the
farthest south of the line, the least changes took place. But on
August 15, 1915, German troops attacked the Russians near Kupishky, at
the point where the original Russian front turned toward the
southwest, and threw them back successfully in a northeasterly
direction, capturing at the same time some 2,000 officers and men.

August 17, 1915, marks the beginning of the end for Kovno and Novo
Georgievsk. On that day both of these fortresses lost some of their
outlying forts, and before Kovno alone 4,500 Russians and over 200
guns fell into the hands of the Germans. During the night of August
18, 1915, Kovno fell, after having been defended most valiantly
against the ever-repeated attacks on the part of the Germans under
General von Eichhorn. It was one of the strongest Russian fortresses,
with eleven outlying forts on both sides of the Niemen, commanding
this river at the point where it turns from its northerly course
toward the west and defending the approach to Vilna from the west.
Over 400 guns and vast quantities of supplies and equipment as well as
about 4,000 officers and men made up the booty. On the same day
additional forts of Novo Georgievsk fell, although the fortress itself
still held out. The fall of Kovno, expected and discounted as it
undoubtedly was by the Russians, was a serious blow. It now became
absolutely necessary to withdraw all their forces in that sector
beyond the Niemen, in order to avoid their being cut off by German
columns advancing from Kovno to the south along the east bank of the
Niemen. This need found expression in the immediate withdrawal of the
Russians from the line Kalvarya-Suvalki. For the Germans an additional
advantage arose in their ability to establish contact between Von
Hindenburg's forces in Poland and Von Bülow's army in Courland and
thereby remove all possibility of having the latter's right wing
enveloped.

As if the fall of Kovno had given a new impetus to the Germans, their
attacks on Novo Georgievsk were now renewed with redoubled vigor. On
August 20, 1915, this last of the important strongholds of the
Niemen-Nareff-Vistula line fell, although the less important
fortresses of Olita, Grodno, and Ossovetz were still in Russian hands.
There, too, large numbers of men and guns and immense amounts of
equipment and supplies were the rewards of the victor. It is said that
the total number of men taken before and in Novo Georgievsk aggregated
85,000, while the number of guns exceeded 700. While the town was
still burning from the final bombardment--in which some of the famous
Austrian mortars of heavy caliber participated--the German Emperor,
accompanied by Field Marshal von Hindenburg, General von Falkenhayn,
Chief of the German General Staff, General von Beseler and many other
high officers, entered this latest conquest of his victorious armies,
over which he later held a review.

The continued retreat of the Russian army and the menacing and
ever-increasing pressure of the advancing Germans, of course, could
have only one result on the fate of the few positions which were still
held by the Russians by now west of the Vilna-Grodno-Bialystok line.
Unless they were willing to risk the loss of large numbers of troops
by having their lines of retreat cut off, it became necessary to
withdraw as many as their means of transportation and their efforts to
delay the Germans permitted. As a result the fortified town of
Ossovetz on the Bobr was evacuated and occupied by the Germans on
August 23, 1915. A few miles south, beyond the Nareff, Tykotsyn
suffered the same fate. In the latter instance the Russians lost over
1,200 men and 70 machine guns. Still farther south, near Bielsk,
Russian resistance was not any more successful. East of Kovno the
German advance was not as successful; at least the Russians were able
in that region to delay the enemy to a greater extent, although the
delay had to be bought dearly. But considering the short distance at
which Vilna was located and the great importance of that city as a
railroad center for the safe withdrawal of the Russian main forces,
any effort that promised success was well worth even heavy losses.
Throughout the following days the forces of the northern group pressed
on relentlessly to the east and south, delayed here and there, but
succeeding in forcing back the Russian troops step by step.




CHAPTER XXI

THE CONQUEST OF GRODNO AND VILNA


With the fall of Olita, Bialystok, and Brest-Litovsk, which took place
on August 25-26, 1915, and is described in more detail in another
chapter, the northern group under Von Hindenburg immediately increased
its activities. In Courland, south of Mitau, near Bausk, heavy
fighting took place, and the Russian lines, which had held their own
throughout the entire retreat of the Russian armies in Poland, began
to give way. At one other point the Russians had fought back
inevitable retreat with special stubbornness, and that was due west of
Grodno, in the neighborhood of Augustovo, which had seen such
desperate fighting during and following the Russian invasion of East
Prussia. But there, too, now the Germans began to make headway and
were advancing against the Niemen and the last Russian stronghold on
it, Grodno.

At about the same time that considerable activity developed at the
utmost southern end of the line in eastern Galicia, operations of
equal extent and of great importance took place at the extreme
northern end, in the vicinity of Riga. On August 30, 1915, parts of
Von Hindenburg's northern group, under General von Beseler, reached
positions south of Friedrichstadt on the Dvina. Other troops under
General von Eichhorn advanced to the northeast of Olita in the
direction of Vilna, while still other forces farther south stormed the
city of Lipsk, less than twenty miles west of Grodno, after having
forced a crossing over the Vidra River, a tributary of the Sukelka.
The fighting around Friedrichstadt continued throughout the last days
of August, 1915. To the south of the Niemen the advance against the
Grodno-Vilna railway continued without cessation. Whatever troops were
not engaged in pursuing the retreating Russian forces were now being
concentrated on the approaching attack against the last Russian
fortress in Poland--Grodno. To the south of it, by August 31, 1915,
they had reached Kuznitsa, on the Bialystok-Grodno railway. The
investment of Grodno may be said to have begun with that day. It was
then that the first reports came that heavy artillery had been brought
up by the Germans and was throwing its devastating shells into the
fortress from the western front. Little hope was left to the Russians
for a successful resistance. For whenever these heavy guns had been
brought into play before, they had blasted their way to the desired
goal, no matter how strong or modern had been the defenses of steel
and cement.

For the withdrawal of the Russians from Grodno there were available
two railroads, one running north to Vilna and another running at first
southeast to Mosty, and there dividing into two branches by both of
which finally in a roundabout way either Minsk or Kieff could be
reached. The Germans, of course, were eager to cut off these lines of
retreat. The latter road was threatened by the forces approaching
Grodno from the south. Before they reached it, however, troops from
Von Hindenburg's group on September 1, 1915, cut the Grodno-Vilna
railroad at Czarnoko. On the same day some of the western outer forts
of Grodno fell, Fort No. 4 being stormed by North German Landwehr
regiments and Fort No. 4a by other troops from Baden. In both cases
the Russians resisted valiantly, with numerically so inferior
garrisons that the Germans could report the capture of only 650
Russians. After the fall of these two fortified works the balance of
the advanced western forts of Grodno were evacuated by the Russians.
This, indeed, was the beginning of the end for the last great Russian
fortress. On September 2, 1915, Grodno was taken by Von Hindenburg's
army after a crossing over the Niemen had been forced. The Russians,
however, again had managed to escape with their armies. The entire
lack in the official German announcement of any reference to the
Russian garrison of Grodno suggests that there was no garrison left by
the time the Germans took the fortress. In spite of this fact,
however, the Germans of course continued to capture Russians in fairly
large quantities for, naturally, numerous detachments lost contact
with the main body during the retreat.

With the fall of Grodno the next objective of the German troops became
Vilna. Indeed, on the very day of Grodno's occupation, German cavalry
reached the northwest and western region immediately adjoining Vilna,
in spite of the most determined Russian resistance. These, of course,
were troops that had not participated in the drive against Grodno, but
during that time had been fighting the Russians farther to the north,
and now that Grodno was no longer to be feared, started a drive of
their own against Vilna. Vilna is second in importance among Polish
cities only to Warsaw itself. By September 8, 1915, detachments of
General von Eichhorn's army had reached Troki, hardly more than ten
miles west of Vilna.

The Russian front had now been pushed back everywhere over a wide
extent, which varied from about twenty miles in the extreme southeast
and about fifty miles in the regions east of Grodno and Kovno, and to
the north of this territory to almost 200 miles in the center east of
Warsaw and Brest-Litovsk. Of the great Russian fortresses of the first
and second line, built as a protection against German and
Austro-Hungarian advances, none remained in the hands of the Russians.
It was true that the main body of the Russian armies had succeeded in
extricating itself from this disaster and withdrawing to the east to
form there a new line. But it was also true that this retreat of the
Russian army had cost dearly in men, material, and, last but not
least, temporarily, the morale of the troops themselves. For a
considerable period of time during the retreat rumors were heard of
changes in the leadership of the Russian armies. These rumors gained
strength when it was announced that General Soukhomlinoff had resigned
as minister of war and that some of the commanding generals of the
different individual army groups had been replaced by others. In view
of these changes it did not come as a surprise when on September 7,
1915, it was announced that the czar himself had taken over the
supreme command of all his armies, which up to that time had been from
the beginning of the war in the hands of his uncle, Grand Duke
Nicholas.

The announcement reached the outside world first in the form of the
following telegram from the czar to President Poincaré of France:

"In placing myself to-day at the head of my valiant armies I have in
my heart, M. President, the most sincere wishes for the greatness of
France and the victory of her glorious army.

                                                           "NICHOLAS."

This was followed on September 8, 1915, by the publication of the
official communication by which the czar relieved the grand duke from
his command and appointed him viceroy of the Caucasus and commander in
chief of the Russian army in the Caucasus. It read as follows:

"At the beginning of the war I was unavoidably prevented from
following the inclination of my soul to put myself at the head of the
army. That was why I intrusted you with the commandership in chief of
all the land and sea forces.

"Under the eyes of all Russia Your Imperial Highness has given proof
during the war of a steadfast bravery which has caused a feeling of
profound confidence and called forth the sincere good wishes of all
who followed your operations through the inevitable vicissitudes of
war.

"My duty to my country, which has been intrusted to me by God, compels
me to-day, when the enemy has penetrated into the interior of the
empire, to take supreme command of the active forces, and to share
with the army the fatigue of war, and to safeguard with it Russian
soil from attempts of the enemy. The ways of Providence are
inscrutable, but my duty and my desire determine me in my resolution
for the good of the state.

"The invasion of the enemy on the western front, which necessitates
the greatest possible concentration of civil and military authorities
as well as the unification of command in the field, has turned our
attention from the southern front. At this moment I recognize the
necessity of your assistance and counsels on the southern front, and I
appoint you viceroy of the Caucasus and commander in chief of the
valiant Caucasian army.

"I express to Your Imperial Highness my profound gratitude, and that
of the country for your labors during the war.

                                                           "NICHOLAS."

The grand duke addressed his former armies before departing to his new
sphere of activity as follows:

"Valiant Army and Fleet: To-day your august supreme chief, His Majesty
the Emperor, places himself at your head; I bow before your heroism of
more than a year, and express to you my cordial, warm, and sincere
appreciation.

"I believe steadfastly that because the emperor himself, to whom you
have taken your oath, conducts you, you will display achievements
hitherto unknown. I believe that God from this day will accord to His
elect His all-powerful aid, and will bring to him victory.

                                                            "NICHOLAS,
                                          "General Aide de Camp."

Another of the small southern tributaries of the Niemen which offered
excellent opportunities for resistance of which the Russians promptly
availed themselves, was the Zelvianka River, which joins the Niemen
just west of Mosty. The fighting which went on there for a few days
was almost exclusively in the form of rear-guard actions, and was
typical of a great deal of the fighting during the Russian retreat.
Whenever the Germans advanced far enough and in large enough numbers
to endanger the retreating armies, the latter would speed up as much
as possible until they reached one of the many small rivers with which
that entire region abounds. There sufficiently large forces to delay
the advance, at least for a day or two, would be left behind to use
the natural possibilities of defense offered by the waterway to the
best possible advantage, while the main body of the army would move
on, to repeat this operation at the next opportunity. In most
instances these practices held up the German and Austrian advance just
exactly in the manner in which it had been designed that it should.
Furthermore, the Russians would not give way until they had inflicted
the greatest possible losses on their enemies, and in that respect
they were frequently quite successful. For first of all many of these
rivers have either densely wooded or very swampy banks which lend
themselves admirably for defense to as brave a fighting body as the
Russian army, and which proved exceedingly treacherous to the
attacker; and in the second place the Russians, of course, had the
advantage that they were fighting on their own soil, while the Germans
were in a strange and often hostile country. In spite of this,
however, the German advance, taken all in all, could not be denied,
and in practically every one of the cases just described, the final
outcome was in a very short time defeat for the Russians and a
successful crossing of the watery obstacle by the Germans. This was
true also at the banks of the Zelvianka, where the Germans on
September 9, 1915, stormed successfully the heights near Pieski,
capturing 1,400 Russians. This success was followed up by further
gains on the next day, September 10, 1915, that again yielded a few
thousand prisoners. A few days later the crossing was forced and the
Germans began to attack the Russians behind the next Niemen tributary,
the Shara.

Farther to the north especially heavy fighting occurred for a few days
around Skidel, a little town just north of the Niemen on the
Grodno-Mosty railroad, and it was not until September 11, 1915, that
the Germans succeeded in storming it. On the same day German
aeroplanes attacked the important railroad junction at Lida on the
Kovno-Vilna railway, and also Vileika on the railway running parallel
to and east of the Warsaw-Vilna-Dvinsk-Petrograd railroad. In a way
this signified the opening of the German offensive against Vilna.
Concurrent with it the fighting on the Dvina between Friedrichstadt
and Jacobstadt waxed more furious. Farther south the Germans advanced
toward Rakishki on the Kupishki-Dvinsk railroad and between that road
and the River Vilia they even reached at some points the Vilna-Dvinsk
railroad. Without any lull the battle raged now all along the line
from the Dvina to Vilna, and from Vilna to the Niemen. South of this
river the attack of the Germans was directed against the Russian front
behind the Shara River. By September 14, 1915, Von Hindenburg stood
before Dvinsk with one part of his army group. The other parts were
rapidly pushing in an easterly direction from Olita and Grodno with
the object of attacking Vilna from the south, but they encountered
determined resistance, especially in the region to the east of Grodno.
With undiminished vigor, however, the Germans continued their advance
against Dvinsk and Vilna. To the south of the former city they pushed
beyond the Vilna-Petrograd railway, taking Vidsky, just north of the
Disna River, in the early morning hours of September 16, 1915.

At that time the fall of both Vilna and Dvinsk seemed to be
inevitable. On September 18, 1915, the Germans reported continuous
progress in their attacks on Dvinsk. On the same day they broke
through the Russian front between Vilna and the Niemen in numerous
places, capturing over 5,000 men and 16 machine guns. Of railroad
lines available to facilitate an eventual Russian retreat from Vilna,
the northern route to Petrograd by way of Dvinsk had been in German
hands for some days. The southern route by way of Lida to Kovno was
imminently threatened at many points. The only other railroad on the
eventual line of retreat to the southeast by way of Minsk was likewise
threatened both from the south and north. Vilna taken, the Germans
immediately bent all their energies to the task of pursuing the
retreating Russians.

On September 18, 1915, Vilna fell into the hands of General von
Eichhorn's army. With it the Russians lost one of the most important
cities of their western provinces. Vilna is one of the oldest Russian
towns, its history dating back as far as 1128. It is the capital of a
government of the same name. In the Middle Ages it was the capital of
the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, but became a Russian possession as a
result of the partition of Poland in 1795. Of its population of more
than a quarter million almost one-half are Jews. Possessing an ancient
Roman Catholic cathedral, it is the seat of a bishop of that church,
as well as of a Greek archbishop.

On the same day on which Vilna's fall was reported, part of Von
Hindenburg's army, its left wing, was reported at Vornjany, Smorgon,
and Molodechno, all places east of Vilna, the last about eighty miles
on the Vilna-Minsk railway. In vain did the Russians try to pierce
this line, which, by the very nature of the advance, must have been
exceedingly thin. It not only held, but managed to force the Russians
to continue their retreat, and during this process captured large
numbers of them. General von Eichhorn's army, the actual conquerors of
Vilna, and Von Hindenburg's center reached Osmiana, thirty miles
southeast of Vilna, on September 20, 1915. The right wing, on the same
day, had pushed on to the east of Lida and to a point just west of
Novogrudok. By September 21, 1915, the crossing of the Gavia River, a
northern tributary of the Niemen, was forced north and south of
Subolniki, and on September 22, 1915, the Russian front extending from
Osmiana to Subolniki and Novogrudok was forced to retreat a one day's
march, ten miles, taking new positions on a line: Soli (on the
Vilna-Minsk railroad)-Olshany-Traby-Ivie to a point slightly northeast
of Novogrudok. A German attempt to outflank the retreating Russians
from the north, made on September 23, 1915, at Vileika on the Vilia,
about ten miles north of the railway junction at Molodechno, failed.
During the next day the Germans again forced back the Russian front
eastward for about ten miles, or a one day's march. Along this new
front--Smorgon-Krevo-Vishneff-Sabresina-Mikolaieff, just southeast of
which latter place the historical Beresina joins the Niemen--the
Russians made a firm stand during the rest of September, 1915.

The German advance was stopped, which fact undoubtedly was partly due
to the renewed activity of the Franco-English forces on the west
front, as well as to the absolute necessity of giving a chance to
recuperate to the armies on the east front, which had been fighting
now incessantly for months. September 28, 1915, may be considered
approximately as the date at which the Battle of Vilna ended. After
that date fighting along the eastern front assumed the form of trench
warfare, except in the extreme northern section, and in Volhynia,
eastern Galicia. In the sector, bounded in the north by the Vilia, and
in the south by the Niemen, the Russian front was along a line running
through the towns of Smorgon, Krevo, Vishneff, Sabresina, Mikolaieff.

As a result of the Battle of Vilna and the Russian retreat following
it the Germans captured 70 officers, about 22,000 men, a large number
of cannon and machine guns, and a great quantity of equipment. Along
the entire eastern front the German forces captured men and equipment
during the month of September, 1915, as follows: 421 officers, 95,464
men, 37 cannon, 298 machine guns, and 1 aeroplane.




CHAPTER XXII

THE CAPTURE OF BREST-LITOVSK


The central group under Prince Leopold had hardly entered Warsaw
proper when it continued its advance in an easterly direction toward
Brest-Litovsk after having occupied Warsaw's eastern suburb, Praga. At
the same time other forces completed the investment of Novo
Georgievsk, covering the sector between the Nareff and the Vistula. By
August 10, 1915, the left wing of the central group had reached
Kaluszin and General von Woyrsch's army had become its right wing,
taking the Russian positions just west of Lukoff. On the same day
German aviators threw bombs both at Novo Georgievsk and
Brest-Litovsk. Under heavy fighting a crossing was forced over the
Muchavka and Lukoff was occupied on August 11, 1915.

One of the most awful consequences of the Russian retreat was the sad
plight in which the civil population of the stricken country found
itself. In the beginning of the retreat the Russians forced these poor
people to join in the retreat. This itself, of course, meant untold
hardships and frequently death. But as the advance of the Germans
became more furious and the retreat of the Russians more rapid, it
often happened that these unfortunate persons--irrespective of age,
sex or condition--were forced by their Russian masters to turn around
again and thus place themselves squarely between the two contending
forces.

With the fall of Lukoff an important railroad leading into
Brest-Litovsk had fallen into the hands of the invading enemy. Along
this line, which is part of the direct line Warsaw-Brest-Litovsk,
Austro-Hungarian forces now progressed rapidly in an easterly
direction and by August 14, 1915, had reached Miendzyrzets.

In spite of the heaviest kind of bombardment and of almost
uninterrupted infantry attacks on Kovno and Novo Georgievsk, both of
these fortresses still held out. By August 1, 1915, however, the
German lines had advanced far beyond these places and it became clear
that their next chief objective was Brest-Litovsk. Each one of the
three main army groups directed strong parts of their forces toward
this Russian stronghold. From the northwest detachments of Von
Hindenburg's group, coming from Lomza and Ostroff, had crossed in a
wide front the Warsaw-Bialystok section of the Warsaw-Vilna-Petrograd
railway. After taking Briansk they had forced the crossing of the
Nurzets, a tributary of the Bug, and the only natural barrier in front
of Brest-Litovsk from that direction. They were rapidly approaching
the Brest-Litovsk-Bialystok railway. The central group's
front--Lukoff-Siedlets-Sokoloff--had been pushed forward to Drohichin
on the Bug, only about forty-five miles to the northeast of the
fortress. Parts of Von Mackensen's southern group under the Archduke
Joseph Ferdinand had even reached Biala, less than twenty miles west
of Brest-Litovsk, and still other detachments from this group were
advancing along the eastern bank of the Bug. Three railroads leading
out of the fortress were still in the hands of the Russians--to
Bialystok to the north, to Pinsk and Minsk to the east, and to Kovel
and Kovno to the south. This continuous offensive against all the
Russian lines, of course, cost both sides dearly. The attackers,
however, seemed to have had the better end of it. The Russians,
according to official figures, lost almost 100,000 men by capture
alone during the first two weeks of August, 1915.

The German successes before Kovno and Novo Georgievsk had the result
of increasing the vigor of the drive against Brest-Litovsk. Those
detachments of Von Hindenburg's army group which had forced a crossing
of the Nareff between Bialystok and Lomza pushed on rapidly to the
south and threatened as early as August 18, 1915, the northern section
of the Bialystok-Brest-Litovsk railway. On the same day Prince
Leopold's forces reached the south bank of the Bug, north of Sarnaki.
Parts of Von Mackensen's army kept up its attack against the Russians
around Biala, forced them across the Bug and into the very forts of
Brest-Litovsk and at the same time began the bombardment of the
outlying forts with the heavy artillery that had been brought up.
Other parts, on that day, August 19, 1915, crossed the northern part
of the Cholm-Brest-Litovsk railway east of Vlodava. At the same time
Austrian forces under Field Marshal-Lieutenant von Arz and Archduke
Joseph Ferdinand cleared the left bank of the Bug, east of Janoff, and
thereby completed the investment of the fortress from the west.

Closer and closer the girdle was drawn. Every day the German advance
progressed. In the evening of August 19, 1915, Prince Leopold's forces
crossed the Bug at Melnik and began to threaten the fortress from the
northwest. Still closer to Brest-Litovsk Austrian troops belonging to
Von Mackensen's group crossed to the north bank of the Bug near
Janoff, while other parts of this group advanced from the south beyond
Vlodava and forced the Russians to withdraw from the east bank of the
Bug north of this town. On the Germans and Austrians pushed from all
directions except, of course, the east. By August 20, 1915, the lower
part of the Brest-Litovsk-Bialystok railway was crossed and the only
railway leading out of the fortress toward the east, which at Shabinka
separates into two branches, one to Minsk and another to Pinsk, seemed
threatened. The German-Austrian advance from the south that day
reached Pishicha, apparently directly toward the southern railroad
from the fortress to Kovel and from there to Kovno and Kieff.

From all sides now the circle around Brest-Litovsk was drawn closer.
The important railroad center at Kovel was taken on August 24, 1915,
and immediately the combined German and Austrian forces swung around
toward the north along both sides of the road leading to Kobryn, east
of the fortress and on the railroad to Pinsk. In the meantime heavy
artillery had been brought up and began the bombardment of the
fortress. During the night of August 25, 1915, the storming of the
forts began. Austrian troops under General von Arz took the three
forts on the western front, while a Brandenburg Reserve Corps attacked
from the northwest and penetrated into the central forts. The Russians
then evacuated the fortress. Its fall immediately imperiled the entire
Russian positions and resulted in a general retreat of all Russian
forces. The question for them now was no longer how long they were
able to delay the enemy, but how much they could save out of the
wreck. On the same day that saw the fall of Brest-Litovsk the Russians
lost Bialystok, and on the next day, August 16, 1915, they evacuated
the fortress of Olita on the Niemen, about halfway between Kovno and
Grodno; the latter, the last of Russia's proud string of western
fortresses of the first line, of course was now not only seriously
threatened but had become practically untenable.

In a way the victory at Brest-Litovsk was an empty one, for the Russians
apparently had decided that the fortress would become untenable before
long and had withdrawn from it in good time not only practically the
entire garrison but also whatever supplies or equipment they could
possibly transport, destroying most of what they were forced to leave
behind and blowing up many of the fortifications. The strategical value
of the victory was, of course, not influenced by this action. After the
fall of the fortress the combined forces of the Germans and Austrians
did not rest on their laurels. Without wasting any time they immediately
took up in all directions the pursuit of the retreating Russians. For a
short time the retreating Russian troops made a determined stand in the
neighborhood of Kamienietz-Litovsk, northeast of Brest-Litovsk, but
could not withstand the German pressure for long. A great deal of very
heavy and bloody fighting took place in this period, August 25 to August
31, 1915, in the dense forest south of Bialystok and east of Bielsk,
sometimes known as the Forest of Bialystok and sometimes as the Forest
of Bielovies, a little town at the end of a short branch railroad,
running east from Bielsk. The Upper Nareff flows through this forest and
much of the fighting was along its banks. Austrian troops, a few days
earlier, had reached Pushany, just north of the Brest-Litovsk-Minsk
railroad and from there pressed on in an easterly direction. By August
21, 1915, the Upper Nareff had been crossed after the hardest kind of
fighting on both sides, and the advance continued now toward Grozana. It
was not, however, until September 1, 1915, that these troops were able
to fight their way out of the forest. At the same time Von Mackensen's
troops were following the retreating Russians into the Pripet Marshes.
Other parts of this group which had advanced east from Brest-Litovsk
along the Minsk railroad reached the Jasiolda River, a tributary of the
Pripet, at a point near Bereza, while Austro-Hungarian troops forming
part of Von Mackensen's army advanced to east and south of Boloto and
Dubowoje. Further north, Prince Leopold's army was still fighting the
retreating Russians just north of Pushany, but on September 4, 1915,
finally fought its way out of the marshes which--outrunners of the vast
Pripet Marshes--are abundant in that region.

Back the Germans and Austrians forced their retreating enemy during
the following days, although the pursuit lost a little in force and
swiftness. For the troops which were engaged in these operations had
been steadily on the move practically ever since the attack on Warsaw
began. On September 6-7, 1915, the Russians again made a stand on a
wide front east and south of Grodno. This line stretched south from
the Niemen near Mosty to Volkovysk, then southeast to Rushana, thence
east of the Pushany Marshes across the Jasiolda River near Chenisk to
Drohichyn, on the Brest-Litovsk-Pinsk railroad. On the German and
Austrian side these engagements were fought by the armies of Prince
Leopold of Bavaria and Field Marshal von Mackensen. At the same time
troops belonging to Von Hindenburg's group attacked a newly formed
Russian line farther north which extended from Volkovysk in a
northwesterly direction to the village of Jeziory and the small lake
on which the latter is situated, just north of Grodno. Volkovysk
itself and the heights northeast of it were stormed by the Germans on
September 7, 1915, on which occasion again almost 3,000 Russians were
captured by the Germans.

During the next few days the left wing of this army group fought in
close cooperation with the right wing of Von Hindenburg's army along
the upper Zelvianka, a southern tributary of the Niemen. The rest of
Prince Leopold's army were making the Kobryn-Minsk railroad their
objective and were fighting on September 9, 10, and 11, 1915, for
possession of the station at Kossovo.

While Von Hindenburg's army group was occupied with the drive on Vilna
and Von Mackensen's forces advanced against Pinsk, Prince Leopold's
regiments, as we have learned, fought continuously in the sector
between the Niemen and the Jasiolda Rivers. The problem assigned to
them apparently was that of gaining the Vilna-Kovno railroad in order
to cut off the Russian retreat, and by the time Vilna fell, September
18, 1915, they had just succeeded in forcing a crossing over the Shara
River, which runs practically parallel to the Lida-Baranovitchy
section of the Vilna-Kovno railroad. In a way this gave them command
of that section; but they first had to cross the country between the
Shara and the railroad, over a width of about twenty miles. Although
they were reported on September 19, 1915, as participating in the
pursuit of the retreating Russians, they seem to have arrived just a
little too late to capture large numbers of them. In fact, not until
September 20, 1915, were they reported actually at Dvorzets, on the
Vilna-Kovno railway, while on that day the right wing of this army was
fighting west of Oshoff, which, indeed, is to the east of the
Brest-Litovsk-Minsk railway, but still a considerable distance (about
twenty-two miles) west of Moltshad, a little to the southeast of
Dvorzets; stormed Ostroff, and crossed the Oginski Canal at Telechany,
after first throwing the Russians across it. These operations netted
some 1,000 prisoners. September 22, 1915, brought their left wing
about ten miles farther east at Valeika, while farther south the
fighting continued in the same locality as on the previous day during
the following days. By September 23, 1915, the left wing again had
advanced about ten miles along the Servetsh River at Korelitchy, as
well as the Upper Shara, east of Baranovitchy and Ostroff. The Russian
resistance along this river was maintained during September 24, 1915,
although the Germans gained its eastern bank south of Lipsk.

Just as in the Vilna-Niemen sector to the north, the German advance in
the region bounded in the north by the Niemen and in the south by the
Jasiolda was halted during the last week of September, 1915. And the
line of positions which had been reached by the German forces was
maintained throughout the rest of the fall and the entire winter,
excepting a few minor changes. In a rough way, that front extended as
follows: Starting south of the junction of the Beresina with the
Niemen, it followed the course of the latter river through the town of
Labicha for about thirty miles in a southeasterly direction, then bent
slightly to the southwest at Korelitchy, passing to the west of
Tzirin, crossed the Brest-Litovsk-Minsk railway about halfway between
Baranovitchy and Snoff and about ten miles farther south the
Vilna-Kovno railway between Luchouitchy and Nieazvied, at which town
it again bent to the southwest, along the Shara River, passing east of
Lipsk, and then along the entire length of the Oginski Canal to its
junction with the Jasiolda, northwest of Pinsk. Along this line both
the Russians and Germans dug themselves in, and throughout the winter
a bitter trench warfare netted occasionally a few lines of trenches
to the Russians and at other times had the same results for the other
side, without, however, materially changing the position of either.




CHAPTER XXIII

THE STRUGGLE IN EAST GALICIA AND VOLHYNIA AND THE CAPTURE OF PINSK


The fall of Ivangorod and Warsaw was the signal for advance for which
the southern group under Von Mackensen had been waiting. General von
Woyrsch's forces pressed on between Garvolin and Ryki, northeast of
Ivangorod. Other forces threw the Russians back beyond the Vieprz and
gradually approached the line of the Bug River. Still farther south,
on the Dniester, Austrian troops, too, forced back the Russians step
by step. On August 11, 1915, Von Mackensen's troops attacked the
Russians, who were making a stand behind the Bystrzyka and the
Tysmienika. This hastened the Russian retreat to the east of the Bug.

Throughout the following days the story of the Russian retreat and the
German-Austrian advance changed little in its essential features. As
fast as roads permitted and as quickly as obstacles in their way could
be overcome, the forces of the Central Powers advanced. With equal
determination the Russian troops availed themselves of every possible,
and quite a few seemingly impossible, opportunities to delay this
advance. Every creek was made an excuse for making a stand, every
forest became a means of stalling the enemy, every railroad or country
road embankment had to yield its chance of putting a new obstacle into
the thorny path of the advancing invader. Whenever the latter seemed
to ease up for a moment, either to gain contact with his main forces
or to rest up after especially severe forced marches, the Russians
were on hand with an attack. But just as soon as the attack had been
made the Germans or Austrians or Hungarians, or all three together,
were ready to forget all about the temporary let-up and were prepared
to meet the attack. Then once more the pursuit would begin.

During the drive on Brest-Litovsk, covering practically all of August,
1915, after the fall of Warsaw, the operations of Von Mackensen's
southern group were so closely connected and intertwined with those of
the central group that they have found detailed consideration together
with the latter. During all this time the extreme right wing in
Eastern Galicia did comparatively little beyond preventing an advance
of the Russian forces at that point. With the fall of Brest-Litovsk,
however, and the beginning of the Russian retreat along the entire
front, activities in the southeastern end of the Russo-German-Austrian
theatre of war were renewed.

On August 28, 1915, German and Austro-Hungarian forces under Count
Bothmer broke through the Russian line along the Zlota-Lipa River,
both north and south of the Galician town of Brzezany, about fifty
miles southeast of Lemberg, and in spite of determined resistance and
repeated counterattacks drove the Russians some distance toward the
Russo-Galician border. At the same time other parts of Von Mackensen's
army successfully attacked the Russian line at Vladimir Volynsky, a
few miles east of the Upper Bug and somewhat north of the
Polish-Galician border. The combined attack resulted in a gradual
withdrawal of the entire Russian line as far as it was located in
Galicia, aggregating in length almost 160 miles. These operations
alone netted to the Austro-Germans about 10,000 Russian prisoners.
This attack came more or less unexpectedly, but in spite of that was
carried on most fiercely. By August 30, 1915, the right wing had
forced the Russians back to the river Strypa and was only a few miles
west of Tarnopol.

Farther north another army under the Austrian General
Boehm-Ermolli encountered determined resistance along the line
Zlochoff-Bialykamien-Radziviloff, where the Russians were supported by
very strongly fortified positions. Still farther north the attack
progressed in the direction of the strongly fortified town of Lutsk,
on the Styr River, less than fifty miles west of the fortress of
Rovno, in the Russian province of Volhynia. This fortress, together
with Dubno, farther south on the Ikwa, a tributary of the Styr, and
with Rovno itself formed a very powerful triangle of permanent
fortifications erected by Russia in very recent times. The purpose for
which they had been intended undoubtedly was twofold; first, to offer
an obstacle to any invasion of that section of the Russian Empire on
the part of Austro-Hungarian troops with Lemberg as a base, and
secondly, to act as a base for a possible Russian attack on Galicia.

In view of these facts, it was surprising that on August 31, 1915,
only three days after the resumption of actual fighting in Eastern
Galicia, the fall of Lutsk was announced. The very form of the
official Austrian announcement rather indicates that the Russians must
have evacuated Lutsk of their own accord, possibly after dismounting
and either withdrawing or destroying its guns. For the report states
that only one--the Fifty-fourth Infantry--regiment drove the Russians
by means of bayonet attacks out of their first-line trenches and then
followed them right into Lutsk. This, of course, could not have been
accomplished so quickly unless the Russians had already withdrawn at
that point as well as everywhere else. At the same time their line was
also pierced at Baldi and Kamuniec, which forced their withdrawal from
the entire western bank of the Styr. German troops, fighting under
General von Bothmer in cooperation with the Austro-Hungarian army of
General Boehm-Ermolli, on the same day (August 31, 1915) stormed a
series of heights on the banks of the Strypa, north of Zboroff,
although they encountered there the most determined resistance on the
part of the Russian forces.

The immense losses in men, guns, and materials which the Russians
suffered throughout the month of August, 1915, in spite of their
genius for withdrawing huge bodies of men at the right moment, will be
seen from the following official statement published on September 1,
1915, by General Headquarters of the German armies. These figures do
not include the losses suffered by the Russian armies which in
Eastern Galicia were fighting against Austro-Hungarian troops.

"During the month of August the number of prisoners taken by German
troops in the eastern and southeastern theatres of war, and the
quantities of war materials captured during the same period, totaled
more than 2,000 officers and 269,800 men taken prisoners, and 2,000
cannon and 560 machine guns.

"Of these, 20,000 prisoners and 827 cannon were taken at Kovno. About
90,000 prisoners, including 15 generals and more than 1,000 other
officers, and 1,200 cannon and 150 machine guns were taken at Novo
Georgievsk. The counting up of the cannon and machine guns taken at
Novo Georgievsk has not yet been finished, however, while the count of
machine guns taken at Kovno has not yet begun. The figures quoted as
totals, therefore, will be considerably increased. The stocks of
ammunition, provisions, and oats in the two fortresses cannot be
estimated."

The fall of Lutsk had serious consequences for the Russians. With this
fortress gone the entire line south of it was endangered unless
promptly withdrawn. It was, therefore, not surprising that when on
September 1, 1915, the left wing of the Austro-German forces crossed
the Styr on a wide front north of Lutsk the entire Russian line down
from that point should give way. That, of course, meant the evacuation
of Galicia by the Russians. Brody, about halfway-between Lemberg and
Rovno on the railroad connecting these two cities, was taken by
Boehm-Ermolli's army on September 1, 1915, and these troops
immediately pushed on across the border. General von Bothmer's forces,
slightly to the south, kept up their advance from Zaloshe and Zboroff
in the direction of Tarnopol and the Sereth River. Still farther south
the third group under General Pflanzer-Baltin drove the Russians from
the heights on the east bank of the Lower Strypa. The general result
of all these operations was the withdrawal of the Russian front along
the Dniester between Zaleshchyki in the south and Buczacz in the
north, to a new line along the Sereth, starting at the latter's
junction with the Dniester. But there the Russians made a stand. The
hardest possible fighting took place on September 4, 1915, all along
the line in Galicia, Volhynia, and on the Bessarabian border. Much of
it was of the "hand-to-hand" kind, for both sides had thrown up
fortifications and dug trenches, which they took turns in storming and
defending.

One of the heaviest battles of this period took place on September 6,
1915, lasting into the early morning hours of the 7th, along a front
about twenty-five miles wide, with its center about at Radziviloff, a
little town just across the border of the Lemberg-Rovno railroad, a
few miles northeast of Brody. There the Russians had strongly
intrenched themselves. The fighting was most bitter, especially around
the castle of Podkamen, which Boehm-Ermolli's troops wrested from the
Russians only through repeated and most fierce infantry attacks and by
means of terribly bloody hand-to-hand fighting. However, finally the
Russians had to give way, leaving over 3,000 men in the hands of their
adversaries. Farther south the armies of Generals von Bothmer and
Pflanzer-Baltin, too, had to withstand continuous attacks of the
Russians and more or less fighting went on all along the southeastern
front as far down as Nova-Sielnitsa, a few miles southeast of
Czernovitz at the point where the borders of Rumania, Galicia, and
Bessarabia meet.

The result of the Austrian victory of September 7, 1915, near
Radziviloff was the further withdrawal on September 8, 1915, of the
Russian line, extending over fifty-five miles to the east bank of the
Ikwa River, a tributary of the Styr, on the west about thirty miles
northeast of Radziviloff on the Lemberg-Rovno railroad. This
withdrawal, of course, seriously threatened this fortress, which,
being on the west side of the Ikwa, was open to direct attack from the
west and south as soon as the Russians had been thrown back beyond the
Ikwa. And, indeed, the next day, September 9, 1915, brought the fall
of the city and fortress of Dubno. Austrian troops under General
Boehm-Ermolli took it by storm, while other detachments advanced to
the Upper Ikwa and beyond the town of Novo Alexinez. This was as
serious a loss to the Russians as it was a great gain for their
enemies. For Dubno commanded not only the valley of the Ikwa, but it
also blocked the very important railway and road that run from Lemberg
to Rovno.

Farther south along the Sereth the Russian lines had been greatly
strengthened by new troops brought up from the rear by means of the
railroad Kieff-Shmerinka-Proskuroff-Tarnopol. This enabled the
Russians to make determined attacks all along the river, which were
especially severe in the neighborhood of Trembovla. General von
Bothmer's German army at first successfully withstood these attacks in
spite of Russian superiority in numbers, but was finally forced to
withdraw from the west bank of the Sereth to the heights between that
river and the Strypa River, which are between 750 and 1,000 feet above
the sea level. But on September 9, 1915, the German forces advanced
again and threw the Russians along almost the entire line again beyond
the Sereth. Farther south on that river, near its junction with the
Dniester, Austrian regiments under General Benigni and Prince
Schoenburg stormed on the same day the Russian positions northwest of
Szuparka, capturing over 4,000 Russians.

While Von Mackensen's army was pushing its advance toward Pinsk, the
principal city in the Pripet Marsh region, along both sides of the
only railroad leading to it--the Brest-Litovsk-Kobryn-Pinsk-Gowel
railroad line--heavy fighting continued in Volhynia and East Galicia.
West of Kovno the Russians were thrown back of the Stubiel River on
September 9, 1915, by the Austrians. General von Bothmer's German
army, which formed the center of the forces in Volhynia and Galicia,
advanced from Zaloshe on the Sereth toward Zbaraz, a few miles
northeast of Tarnopol. Before the latter town, which the Russians
seemed to be determined to hold at any cost, new reenforcements had
appeared and opposed the advance of the Austro-German forces with the
utmost fierceness. In that sector they passed from the defensive to
the offensive, and with superior forces threw back the enemy again
from the Sereth to the heights on the east bank of the Strypa on
September 10, 1915. But with these heights at their back the German
line held and all Russian attacks broke down.

In spite of this they were renewed on September 11, 1915, with such
strength that small detachments succeeded in gaining a temporary
foothold in the enemy's trenches, where the bloodiest kind of
hand-to-hand fighting occurred. At that moment General von Bothmer
ordered an attack on both flanks of the Russians, who thereby were
forced to give up the advantage which they had so dearly bought.
However, this did not make the Russians lose heart. Again and again
they came on, and so fierce were their onslaughts that the
Austro-German line was finally withdrawn to the west bank of the
Strypa on September 13, 1915. To the north, along the Ikwa from Dubno
to the border, reenforcements were also brought up by the Russians and
succeeded in holding up any further advance on the part of the
Austrian troops. Especially hard fighting took place in the
neighborhood of Novo Alexinez, a little village just across the border
in Volhynia.

On September 15, 1915, Von Mackensen took Pinsk after having driven
the Russians out of practically all the territory between the Jasiolda
and Pripet Rivers. Considering that this city is, in a direct line,
more than 220 miles east of Warsaw, this accomplishment was little
short of marvelous, especially in view of the fact that the territory
surrounding Pinsk--the Pripet Marshes--offered immense difficulties.
However, the same difficulties were encountered by the retreating
Russians in even greater measure, because, while there is some solid
ground west of Pinsk, there is practically nothing but swamps to the
north, south, and east of the city, the direction in which the Russian
retreat necessarily had to proceed. It was thus possible for Von
Mackensen to report on September 17, 1915, the capture of 2,500
Russians south of Pinsk.

In the Volhynian and Galician theatre of war the struggle continued
without any abatement. Neither side, however, succeeded in gaining any
lasting and definite advantages. One day the Russians would throw
their enemies back across the Strypa, only to suffer themselves a like
fate on the next day in respect to the Sereth. More or less the same
conditions existed east of Lutsk and along the Ikwa, in both of which
regions the Russians continued their attempts to drive back the
Austro-Germans by repeated attacks.

After the conquest of Pinsk, Von Mackensen's army for a few days
continued its advance from that town in a northeasterly, easterly, and
southeasterly direction. But here, too, the advance stopped about
September 23, 1915, after some detachments which had crossed to the
north and northeast of Pinsk, over the Oginski Canal at Lahishyn, and
over the Jasiolda between its junction with the canal and the
Pinsk-Gomel railroad, had to be withdrawn on that date. In this
sector--from the Jasiolda to the Styr at Tchartorysk just south of the
Kovel-Kieff railway--the fighting assumed the form of trench warfare,
just as it did along the rest of the front south of the Vilia River.
The front there was along the Jasiolda from its junction with the
Oginski Canal, swung around Pinsk and east of it in a semicircle,
through the Pripet Marshes, crossed the Pripet River at Nobiet and
then continued in a southerly direction to Borana on the Styr, along
that river for a distance of about twenty miles, across the
Kovel-Kieff railroad at Rafalovka to Tchartorysk on the Styr.

Farther south the Russians gained some slight successes, and even
forced the Germans to retreat to the west bank of the Styr at Lutsk.
The fighting in that vicinity and along the Ikwa was very severe.
Especially was this true in the neighborhood of Novo Alexinez, where,
in very hilly country, the Russians launched attack after attack
against the Austro-German forces, without, however, being able to
dislodge them from their very strong positions. The battle raged
furiously on September 25, 1915, when some Russian detachments
succeeded in advancing a few miles to the southwest of Novo Alexinez
into the vicinity of Zaloshe. However, the Austrian resistance was so
strong that the Russians lost about 5,000 men. When on September 27,
1915, a German army under General von Linsingen had again forced its
way across the Styr at Lutsk and threatened to outflank the right wing
of the Russian forces, the latter finally gave way and retreated in
the direction of Kovno. A Russian attempt to break through the
Austro-German line, held by General von Bothmer's army, on the Strypa
west of Tarnopol, was made on October 2, 1915, but failed. The same
was true of attacks on the Ikwa west of Kremenet and north of Dubno
near Olyka, made on October 6, 1915. These were followed up on the
next day, October 7, 1915, with further attacks along the entire
Volhynian, East Galician, and Bessarabian front.

At that time this front extended as follows: Starting at Tchartorysk on
the Styr, a few miles south of the Kovel-Gomel railroad, it ran almost
straight south through Tsuman, crossed the Brest-Litovsk railroad a mile
or two north of Olyka, passed about fifteen miles west of Rovno to the
Rovno-Lemberg railroad, which it crossed a few miles east of Dubno, then
followed more or less the course of the Ikwa and passed through Novo
Alexinez. There it turned slightly to the west, crossed the Sereth about
ten miles farther south, passed through Jezierna on the Lemberg-Tarnopol
railroad and crossed the Strypa at the point where this river is cut by
the Brzezany-Tarnopol railroad, about fifteen miles west of the latter
city. Again bending somewhat, this time to the east, it continued
slightly to the west of the Strypa to a point on this river about
fifteen miles north of Buczacz, then followed the course of the Strypa
on both sides to this town, bent still more to the east, passing through
Pluste, about ten miles southeast of which it crossed the Sereth a few
miles north from its junction with the Dniester, coming finally to its
end at one of the innumerable bends in the Dniester, practically at the
Galician-Bessarabian border and about twenty miles northwest of the
fortress of Chotin. Although the amount of territory gained by the
Austro-Germans in the period beginning with the fall of Warsaw was
smaller in that section than in any other on the eastern front, it was
still of sufficient size to leave now in the hands of the Russians only
a very small part of Galicia, little more than forty miles wide at its
greatest width and barely eighty miles long at its greatest length.




CHAPTER XXIV

IN THE PRIPET MARSHES


A Great deal of the fighting after the fall of Brest-Litovsk, August
27, 1915, occurred in and near the extensive swamp lands surrounding
the city of Pinsk and located on both sides of the River Pripet. To
the Russians this part of the country is known as the Poliessie; its
official name is the Rokitno Marshes, after the little town of that
name situated slightly to the west, but it is usually spoken of as the
Pripet Marshes. Parts of this unhealthy and very difficult region are
located in five Russian governments: Mohileff, Kieff, Volhynia, Minsk,
and Grodno, and these swamps therefore are the border land of Poland,
Great Russia, and Little Russia. A comparatively small section of them
has been thoroughly explored and their exact limits have never been
determined. In the west and east the Rivers Bug and Dniester
respectively form a definite border, which is lacking in the south and
north, while to the northwest the famous Forest of Bielovies may be
considered its boundary. According to a very rough estimate the Pripet
Marshes are approximately one-half as large as the kingdom of Rumania;
only one river of importance runs through them, the Pripet, from
which, indeed, the marshes take their popular name. On both of its
sides the Pripet has a large number of tributaries, among which on the
right are: the Styr, the Gorin, the Usha, and on the left the Pina,
the Sluch, and the Ptych. A large number of small lakes are
distributed throughout the entire district. Quite a large number of
canals have been built, one of which connects the Pina with the Bug,
another the Beresina, of Napoleonic fame and a tributary of the
Dnieper, with the Ula and through the latter with the Dvina. In this
manner it is possible to reach the Baltic Sea by means of continuous
waterways from the Black Sea.

It is very difficult to conceive a clear picture of this region
without having actually seen it. In a way one may call it a gigantic
lake which away from its shores has been filled in with sand to a
small extent and to a larger extent has turned into swamps. It is
densely covered with rushes, and out of its waters, which are far from
clear, a multitude of stony islets rise up covered with dense
underbrush. Its center is surrounded by an even more dense seam of
pine forests. Its rivers and brooks are so slow that they can hardly
be distinguished from stagnant waters. The only town of any importance
within its limits is Pinsk on the Pina.

In a general way five railroad lines have been built through various
parts of the Pripet Marshes; the most important being a section of
the Rovno-Vilna railroad; two others of special importance to the
Russian retreat were the Brest-Litovsk-Pinsk-Gomel and the
Ivangorod-Lublin-Cholm-Kovel-Kieff road. The Brest-Litovsk-Minsk
railroad also passes in its greatest part through the outlying
sections of the Pripet Marshes. The effect of these swamp lands on
the Russian retreat and the German advance, of course, was twofold:
it increased the difficulty of the Russian retreat, throwing at the
same time very serious obstacles in the way of the advancing
Germans.

To the southward, and in a region very similar in all its
characteristics, is the Volhynian triangle of fortresses: Lutsk,
Dubno, and Rovno. Here too, during the fighting around these three
places, the Russian and German armies had to contend with tremendous
difficulties, which were caused chiefly by the fact that this part of
the country, with the exception of a few sections, was almost
impassable. This fact, undoubtedly, was primarily responsible for the
decision of the Russian Government to locate these three powerful
fortresses at that particular point, because the very difficulties
which nature had provided became valuable aids to a strong defense
against an invasion of Russian territory by Austro-Hungarian troops
from the south.

The fortresses of Lutsk and Dubno date with their beginning as far
back as 1878, at which time they were built according to the plans of
the Russian General Todleben. A little later the fortifications of
Rovno were added to this group, and one of the strongest triangles of
Russia's fortifications was formed thereby. The sides of this triangle
measure thirty, twenty-five, and forty miles respectively. The
longest of these is the line between Lutsk and Rovno, with its back
toward the Pripet Marshes. Of the three fortresses Rovno is the most
important from a strategical point of view, for it defends the
junction of three of the most valuable railroads, the railway leading
from Lemberg into Volhynia, that running south from Vilna into
Galicia, and the railroad which by way of Berticheff indirectly
connects Kieff with both Warsaw and Brest-Litovsk. The three
fortresses, therefore, acted as a wedge between the most southeastern
and the Polish zones of operations. They secured the connection of any
Russian forces in Poland with the interior of Russia, and made
possible the transfer of forces through the protection which they gave
to the various railroad lines necessary for such a transfer. On
account of the conditions of the surrounding territory it was
impossible for any attacking army to dispose of the fortresses by
investing them with part of their available forces while the balance
of them continued on their advance; for the only way to reach the
country in back of the three fortresses was by way of the fortresses
themselves, which meant, of course, that they would have to be taken
first before the advance could be continued. Furthermore, the
fortresses also acted as a barrier, protecting the approaches to
Kieff, enabling the undisturbed concentration of an army in that
protected zone while the enemy would be busily occupied in battering
his way through the fortress triangle. The latter were still more
strengthened by the Rivers Ikwa and Styr, which flow to the southwest
and north of them.

The fortifications of all these three points were not of particularly
recent origin, although they had been remodeled at various times since
their original creation. Lutsk, a city of some twenty thousand
inhabitants, is located on a small island of the Styr, and controls
the Kovel-Rovno section of the Brest-Litovsk-Berticheff railroad. Some
ten forts of various degrees of strength surrounded the central
fortifications, forming a girdle of forts with a circumference of
approximately ten miles. Dubno, southeast of Lutsk, a town of about
fifteen thousand inhabitants, is located in the valley of Ikwa on its
left bank, and protects the Brody-Zdolbitsa section of the
Lemberg-Rovno-Vilna railroad, with its branches to Kovel,
Brest-Litovsk, and to Kieff. The forts are not as numerous as at
Lutsk, but are more advantageously located and, therefore, proved more
difficult for the attacking Austro-Hungarian-German troops. Besides
the Styr and Ikwa Rivers this comparatively small sector offers other
natural advantages in the form of a number of smaller streams, the
defense of which is greatly assisted by the marshy condition of their
banks and the heavy growth of underbrush to be found there.

Rovno, the largest of the three cities, with about twenty thousand
inhabitants, was first fortified in 1887, and as a railroad junction
is even more important than either Lutsk or Dubno. Its fortifications
are built to serve as a fortified bridgehead. They amount to seven
forts of which five are located on the left bank of the Ustje and two
on the right. These forts were built in the form of a semicircle, at a
distance of four to six miles from the city itself and with a
circumference of approximately twenty-five miles. Originally this
group of fortresses undoubtedly was intended to act as a basis for a
Russian invasion of Galicia and Hungary rather than as a means of
defense against an invasion from these countries. And, indeed, in the
earlier part of the war, when the Russians forced their way into
Galicia and to the Carpathian Mountains, they fulfilled their purpose
with greater success than they were destined to achieve now as a means
of defense.




CHAPTER XXV

FIGHTING ON THE DVINA AND IN THE DVINA-VILNA SECTOR


At the time Warsaw fell, in the beginning of August, 1915, the eastern
front north of the Niemen extended as follows: Starting on the western
shore of the Gulf of Riga, at a point about twenty miles west of Riga
and about thirty miles northwest of Mitau it ran in a slightly curved
line in a southeasterly direction to the town of Posvol on the Musha
River, passing just west of Mitau and the River Aa, about ten miles
west of Bausk. From Posvol a salient with a diameter of about twenty
miles extended around Ponevesh on the Libau-Dvinsk railroad, with its
most eastern point a few miles west of Kupishki on the same railroad
line. From there the southern side of the salient passed through
Suboch and Rogoff to Keydany on the Nievraza, and along the banks of
that stream to its junction with the Niemen, about five miles west of
Kovno.

In a preceding chapter we have learned how this line was pushed back
by the Germans during and following the drive on Kovno and Vilna.
After Vilna's fall on September 18, 1915, the Germans had advanced
along the western shore of the Gulf of Riga to Dubbeln, about ten
miles west of Riga, at the Aa's delta. But, although the Germans
succeeded in crossing the Aa at Mitau and establishing their positions
to the east of that city, they were unable then, and in fact during
the following months, to approach closer to Riga at that point, so
that a salient was formed west of Riga, which at its widest point was
over twenty miles distant from this point. Just south of Mitau, the
south side of this salient bent almost straight to the east for a
distance of thirty miles until it reached Uexkuell on the Dvina, about
twenty miles southeast of Riga. From there the line followed almost
exactly the east bank of the Dvina, passing through the important
towns of Friedrichstadt and Jacobstadt, from where it bent due south,
gradually drawing away to the west of the Dvina River and passing west
and southwest of Dvinsk at a distance of about ten miles. All along
this line considerable fighting took place throughout September, 1915,
as has already been narrated.

During September 21-22, 1915, this fighting was especially severe west
and southwest of Dvinsk, where the Germans were making unsuccessfully
desperate efforts to break the Russian lines and get within striking
distance of Dvinsk. However, although they managed to maintain their
own lines against all Russian attacks and to gather in some 5,000
prisoners, they could not break the Russian defensive.

The Russian forces at this point were led by General Russky, among
whose commanders was Radko Dmitrieff, of Balkan War fame. Both of
these generals are to be counted among the greatest Russian leaders
and they were especially expert in everything that pertained to
fortresses and their defense. As wonderful as the German military
machine had proven itself, as severe as their often repeated
offensives were, as superior as their supply of artillery and
munitions was both in quality and quantity, Russky and Dmitrieff
proved a good match for them all. The possession of Dvinsk at that
particular moment would have meant an almost inestimable advantage to
the Germans, just as its loss would have been apt to mean the complete
rout of the Russians. For once the line broken to a sufficiently great
width at that point, all the Russian forces having their basis on
Petrograd, Smolensk, and Moscow might have been turned completely.

This supreme importance of Dvinsk was understood equally well by both
sides. On the part of the Germans this understanding resulted in
unceasing attacks by all available means and forces, while the
Russians on their part were prepared to defend their positions with a
stubbornness and determination unequaled by the case of any other
fortress with the possible exception of Riga and Rovno. The harder the
Germans drove their armies against Dvinsk the harder the Russians
fought to repulse them. The latter were greatly assisted in this by
the fact that strong reenforcements had been sent to this crucial
point from Petrograd and from other interior points. Still more
important was the beginning of considerable improvement in the Russian
supply of guns and shells. Even though, in that respect, Russky was
undoubtedly still far behind his German opponent, Von Hindenburg, yet
he was at that moment in a much better position than any other Russian
general. Dvinsk had to be held at all costs--the Russian General Staff
apparently had decided--and to Dvinsk, therefore, were sent all
available guns and munitions.

Originally the fortress of Dvinsk was far from being up to date or
particularly effective and imposing. It consisted of an old citadel
which, it is true, had been improved considerably; but even then its
outworks extended hardly farther than a mile beyond its own range. As
soon as General Russky assumed command he began feverishly to improve
these conditions. In this undertaking he was greatly assisted by the
nature of the countryside surrounding Dvinsk. Immediately to the
northwest, west, south, and southeast the River Dvina formed a strong
line of natural defense. Beyond that was a region thickly covered with
small and big lakes, which swung around Dvinsk as a center, in the
form of an immense three-quarters circle, starting to the south of the
Libau-Ponevesh-Dvinsk railroad and stopping just west of the
Dvinsk-Pskoff-Petrograd railroad. The diameter of this circle varies
from thirty miles to sixty. The ground between these lakes is swampy
in many places, difficult of approach, and comparatively easy to
defend even against superior forces, especially because most of it is
not entirely flat, but interspersed with hills and woodlands.

Throughout this entire district the Russians built a dense network of
trenches, and it was especially by means of these that the Germans
were repulsed not only successfully but with great losses to their
attacking forces. The more important of these earth fortifications
were built in a novel fashion. The main part of each had the form of a
crescent with its horns turned toward the enemy. Every attack from the
latter, in order to find a point big enough for an effective attack,
had to be frontal in nature; that means, it had to be directed against
the main part of the crescent-shaped trench. But, whenever such a
frontal attack would be executed and just as soon as the attackers
would be inside of the sides of the crescent, machine guns and rifle
fire from its two horns would hit them on both flanks and frequently
destroy them utterly. In order to make the Germans advance far enough
into the crescent, advanced trenches had been built in front of its
horns, which were connected with the main part of the crescent by
communicating trenches.

These advanced trenches were manned by comparatively small forces,
whose duty it was to offer a sufficiently strong resistance to draw a
fairly good-sized number of Germans. This purpose having been
accomplished the troops in the advanced trenches would give way and
retire by means of the communicating trenches into their main
positions. Again and again the Germans followed them into the
death-dealing hollow, to be decimated unmercifully in the manner
described above. At the same time Russian guns would open fire and
direct a sheet of shells toward the back of the attacker, thus cutting
off most effectively any reenforcements which might have made it
possible for the Germans to either storm the main trench or withdraw
at least that part of their attacking party which had not yet fallen
prey to Russian ingenuity. It is said that General Russky contrived to
throw out fortifications of this nature around Dvinsk in an immense
circle which had a diameter of twenty miles and with its circumference
formed a front of almost two hundred miles. Of course, this front was
not in the form of an unbroken line. There were any number of places
along it that could be occupied by the Germans practically at will.
But once there the next advance would invariably bring them face to
face with a new obstacle, kill hundreds of them, and frequently result
in the withdrawal of the remnant to its main line, from where another
advance would be attempted promptly on the next day.

One other feature of these fortifications contributed a great deal to
their becoming practically impregnable. The Russian engineering troops
saw to it that all these works were built as narrow as possible and
were dug as deep as the ground permitted. It was this fact which made
the German artillery fire so surprisingly ineffective at this point.
In spite of its unceasing fierceness the results it accomplished were
as nothing compared with the effort and expense it involved. For, of
course, no matter how brilliant the gunnery, how wonderful the cannon,
how devastating the shells, if the target at which they are aimed is
sufficiently far away and sufficiently small, the result will be
disappointing; and the Russians at Dvinsk saw to it that the Germans
experienced a long series of costly and heartbreaking disappointments
of that nature.

A Hungarian staff correspondent, who was with Von Hindenburg's army,
had this to say about the siege of Dvinsk, or rather about the attacks
on its outlying fortifications: "The German army could not make use
of its heavy artillery, for it proved quite useless, owing to the
extreme narrowness of the Russian trenches. In the lake district south
of Dvinsk the Russians made the utmost of their natural defenses, and
even the advanced trenches there were only occupied after very heavy
losses, and then retained under the most trying circumstances. In
taking Novo Alexandrovsk--a village about fifteen miles southwest of
Dvinsk on the Dvinsk-Kovno post road--the losses incurred on our part
were unprecedented in severity."

Another correspondent in writing to his paper, the "Vossische
Zeitung," describes the fortifications of Dvinsk as follows: "Every
rod of land is covered with permanent trenches, roofed securely
against shrapnel and shell fragments and connected with so-called 'fox
holes'--small shelters in which the garrisons are safe against the
heaviest shells. Sand trenches, skillfully laid out, so that they are
mutually outflanking, smother exploding projectiles. The flanking fire
of the machine guns often annihilates the assailants when they are
apparently successfully attacking. One company alone thus lost
fifty-one dead in one day. Between September 15 and October 26, 1915,
Dvinsk, in a way, was captured fifteen times, but it is still in
Russian hands. The bombardment has reduced the fortress in size
one-half without affecting in the least the strength of the
remainder."

South of Dvinsk, however, the Germans had been able to advance their
line slightly farther to the east. On September 27-28, 1915, and the
following days they were fighting on the shores of Lake Drysvidly,
about ten miles east of the Dvinsk-Vilna railroad, and at Postavy, ten
miles south of the Disna River, a southern tributary of the Dvina.
Again on October 1, 1915, the Russians attacked north of Postavy, as
well as south on the shores of Lakes Narotch and Vishneff, but without
success. Throughout the next day the fighting continued, although not
particularly severe. But on October 6, 1915, stronger Russian forces
were again thrown against the German lines. In the beginning they
gained ground at Koziany, on the Disna, and south on Lakes Drysvidly
and Vishneff, but the day's net results left the Germans in possession
of their old positions. Russian attacks in that region during October
7-8, 1915, suffered the same fate.

On the latter day the Germans made an attack in force south of Ilukst,
ten miles to the northwest of Dvinsk, and took the village of
Garbunovka, capturing over 1,000 Russians and some machine guns. On
the next day, October 9, 1915, the Russians attempted unsuccessfully
to regain these positions and were also defeated to the west of
Ilukst, north of the Ponevesh-Dvinsk railroad. On the 10th, attacks
west of Dvinsk and Vidzy, north of the Disna, had no better results.

Throughout the following week, October 10 to 17, 1915, the Russian
army continuously attacked along the entire line west and south of
Dvinsk. In some instances they succeeded in breaking temporarily and
for short distances through the German line. But in no case did this
lead to a lasting success and, in some instances even, the Germans
closed the line again so quickly that the Russian detachments who had
broken through were cut off from their main body and fell into the
hands of the Germans.

Both on October 22 and 23, 1915, the Russians launched strong attacks
near Sadeve, south of Kosiany, which were repulsed in both instances.
On the latter day the Germans again attacked northwest of Dvinsk, near
Ilukst, and captured some Russian positions as well as over 3,500 men
and twelve machine guns, maintaining their hold on the former in the
face of strong Russian counterattacks on October 24, 1915. Small
German detachments which had advanced toward the north of Ilukst on
that day, however, had to give way promptly to superior Russian
forces. In spite of this the Germans repeated the experiment on the
following day with stronger forces and at that time gained their
point. On October 26, 1915, the Germans broke through the Russian line
south of the Ponevesh-Dvinsk railroad, between the latter city and the
station of Abele, but had to give up part of the newly-gained
positions during the night only to regain it again the next morning. A
Russian attack against this position undertaken later on that day,
October 27, 1915, broke down under German artillery fire, before it
had fully developed.

In a similar way the most furious kind of fighting took place
throughout this period on the Riga salient. There, too, the Russians,
successfully held the Germans at a safe distance. In the second half
of October, 1915, when Von Hindenburg apparently had become convinced
that he would not succeed in taking Dvinsk before the coming of
winter, if at all, the German general began to shift the center of his
operations toward the north and massed large forces against Riga.
According to some reports as many as six army corps were concentrated
at that point. The country there, though different from that in the
vicinity of Dvinsk, was hardly less difficult for the Germans and
offered almost as many opportunities for natural defenses to the
Russians.

We have already described at the beginning of this chapter the exact
location of the salient that ran around Riga from Dubbeln on the Gulf
of Riga by way of Mitau to Uexkuell on the Dvina. The first sector of
it--Dubbeln-Mitau--was approximately twenty-five miles long, and the
second--Mitau-Uexkuell--about thirty miles. On its western and
northwestern side it was bounded to a great extent by the River Aa and
by the eastern half of Lake Babit. The latter is about ten miles long,
but only a little more than one mile in width and runs almost parallel
to part of the south shore of the Gulf of Riga, at a distance of about
three miles.

On its southern and southeastern sides the salient followed, for some
ten miles, first the post road and then the railroad from Mitau to
Kreutzburg on the Dvina--about fifty miles northwest of Dvinsk--and
then turned to the northeast for another twenty miles or so. On this
latter stretch it crossed two tributaries of the River Aa, the Eckau
and the Misse. Through the entire depth of the salient, in a
southwesterly direction from Riga, runs a section about twenty-five
miles long of the Riga-Mitau-Libau railroad, cutting it practically
into two equal parts. Another railroad connects Riga with Dubbeln and
still another with Uexkuell, so that the Russians had good railroad
communications to every point of the salient. The inside of the
latter, besides the rivers mentioned, contained some half dozen other
smaller waterways, tributaries of the Aa and Dvina, and was covered
almost entirely with dense forests. In the center of these there are
located extensive swamps known as the Tirul Marshes, and smaller
stretches of swamp lands are also found in various other sections of
these woods.

With the exception of the Mitau-Riga railroad there are only two means
of approaching Riga, a fairly good road that leads along Lake Babit
from the Aa to Riga, and another that runs from Gross Eckau on the
Eckau River through the woods by way of Kekkau to Riga and in its
northern part parallels the Dvina. The latter stream widens
considerably about ten or fifteen miles above Riga and forms many
small islands, the largest of which is Dalen Island, just to the north
of Kekkau. Separating it from the mainland is only a comparatively
narrow arm of the Dvina. The northern tip of the island is solid,
somewhat elevated ground, and commands the eastern main arm of the
Dvina as well as its eastern bank. If the Germans could gain this
island their chances of reaching Riga from the south would be many
times increased. An attack in that direction had nothing to fear from
a flanking movement on the part of the Russians, because the latter
would be prevented from getting at their advancing enemy either from
the west or northwest by the impassable Tirul Marshes.

On October 16, 1915, the Germans decided to attempt this maneuver and
made a rather unexpected attack east of Mitau and north of Eckau and
forced the Russians back of the Misse River, an eastern tributary of
the River Aa, near Basui, on which occasion they claimed to have
captured over 10,000 men. Some more ground was gained in that
neighborhood during the next three days.

Immediately the Russians retaliated by an equally unexpected naval
operation far to the north, at the western entrance to the Gulf of
Riga. A Russian fleet appeared there and bombarded the ports of
Domesnaes and Gipken. Detachments were landed. Although they destroyed
some of the fortifications that had been erected there by the Germans
and scattered the small forces which the Germans had there, they
withdrew within a few days. This operation had practically no
influence on the further developments along the balance of the front,
except that, threatening as it was for the time being to the German
rear, it resulted in a temporary reduction of the pressure that the
Germans were trying to exert from the south.

One other attempt to reach Riga before the coming of winter was made
toward the end of October. Apparently the German plan was to make a
triple attack on the Baltic fortress. From the south another drive was
made against Dalen Island. From the southwest the new offensive
started from Mitau in the direction of Olai along the Mitau-Riga
railroad, and from the west reenforcements that had been concentrated
at Tukum advanced on both sides of Lake Babit. However, this
offensive, too, was unsuccessful. Especially that started along the
north shore of Lake Babit proved costly to the Germans. There the
stretch of land between the gulf and the lake is nowhere more than
three miles wide, and in many places not that wide. Through its entire
length flows the Aa. It is only sparsely wooded. Comparatively small
Russian forces successfully opposed the advancing Germans, whose
narrow front was easily dominated and driven back by machine guns and
field artillery; from the gulf, too, Russian war vessels trained their
guns on the Germans, and the attack was quickly broken up with
considerable losses to the attackers and only small losses to the
defenders. Against these conditions the Germans seemed to be helpless.
They fell back along the north shore of Lake Babit and along the Aa
toward their base at Schlock. This, of course, necessitated a
simultaneous withdrawal of the German forces on the south shore of the
lake. The Russians immediately followed up their advantage, and by
November 6, 1915, the Germans had withdrawn all their forces from
along the north side of the Tirul Marshes. About that time the Germans
withdrew beyond the Aa to its west bank, and on November 8, 1915, the
Russians stormed the village of Kemmern, about five miles west of
Schlock. During the next two weeks, November 8 to 22, 1915, continuous
fighting took place to the north of the Schlock-Tukum railroad. This
resulted in the storming by the Russians of the villages of Anting and
Ragasem on the shores of Lake Kanger and the withdrawal of the
Germans beyond the west shore of this lake.

As early as the beginning of November weather conditions had made
fighting on a large scale impossible for a few weeks. Attacks and
counterattacks, such as we have just described, were still kept up in
front of Dvinsk and Riga, it is true, but they gradually lost in
extent and severity and brought practically no changes of any
importance. Along the rest of the front, down to the Vilia, the
fighting assumed, like everywhere else on the eastern front, the form
of trench warfare, interrupted occasionally by artillery duels of
considerable severity, doing, however, more damage to the landscape
than to the military forces. Aero attacks on a small scale, too, were
the order on both sides whenever opportunity and climatic conditions
permitted. This state of affairs continued throughout the months of
November and December, 1915, and January and February, 1916.

Throughout this period the Russo-German lines in the Dvina-Vilia
sector remained practically unchanged, although, of course, minor
readjustments took place here and there. In the north, along the Aa
and Dvina, and before Dvinsk, it was still in the same position that
has been described in the beginning of this chapter, except that it
had been pushed back from Dubbeln to Lake Kanger, Kemmern, and the
River Aa. At the point where it crossed the Vilna-Dvinsk railroad,
about ten miles southwest of Dvinsk, it bent still more to the
southeast, passed east of Lake Drysvidly, then about ten miles east of
Vidzy, crossed the Disna near Koziany, and reached its most easterly
point a few miles west of the village of Dunilovichy. From there it
bent back again in a westerly direction, but ran still toward the
south, about ten miles east of Lake Narotch, and at the same distance
to the west of the town of Vileika to the Vilia, just north of
Smorgon.

In spite of all the severe fighting before Dvinsk and Riga, neither of
these cities had yet been brought within the range of the majority of
the German guns, even though continuous local successes had been
gained on the part of the German troops. The losses which the latter
suffered cannot be stated definitely, because no official figures,
either Russian or German, are available. They must have been severe,
however. The net result of all the fighting in the region before
Dvinsk, which had then been in progress practically for fifty days,
therefore, was next to nothing for the Germans and hardly more for the
Russians. Neither had been able to gain any definite success over the
other. Throughout all this time the Germans not only made innumerable
infantry attacks, but also kept up an incessant artillery fire,
throwing as many as 100,000 shells a day against the Russian
positions. That they did not gain their point speaks well, not only
for the valor of the Russian army, but also for the ability of its
leader, General Russky.




CHAPTER XXVI

WINTER BATTLES ON THE STYR AND STRYPA RIVERS


As the autumn of 1915 drew to an end and winter approached, the
fighting along the eastern front changed from attacks over more or
less extensive spaces to trench warfare within very restricted
territory and to artillery duels. This change took place, as we have
already seen, as far as the front from the Vilia River down to the
southern limits of the Pripet Marshes was concerned, as early as the
end of September, 1915. Farther south, however, along the Styr and its
tributary, the Ikwa, and in the region through which the Strypa,
Sereth, and Dniester flow, in the Russian provinces of Volhynia and in
Austro-Hungarian East Galicia, the severest kind of fighting was kept
up much longer.

The preceding chapter carried us, as far as this territory was
concerned, up to October 7, 1915. On that day the Russians attacked
with all available forces of men and munitions along the entire
Volhynian, Galician, and Bessarabian front. One of the principal
points of contention was the little town of Tchartorysk on the Styr,
about five miles south of the Warsaw-Kovel-Kieff railroad. To the
northwest of it the Germans under General Linsingen began a
counterattack on October 7, 1915, and threw the Russians across the
Styr. A Russian counterattack, undertaken on the 8th with the object
of regaining their lost position, was frustrated by artillery fire. To
the north, just across the railroad at Rafalovka, attacks and
counterattacks followed each other as regularly as day and night. For
about two weeks a series of local engagements on this small front of
ten or fifteen miles took place with such short periods of rest that
one may well speak of them as the Battle of Tchartorysk. Neither side,
however, seemed to be able to gain any marked advantage.

About the 18th of October, 1915, the Russians succeeded, after
bringing up reenforcements, in driving a wedge into the Austro-German
line which they were able to maintain until October 21, 1915. On that
day the Austro-Germans, too, brought up reenforcements and started a
strong offensive movement. From three sides the small salient was
attacked near Okonsk, and after furious resistance it caved in.
Russian counterattacks to the north and south, undertaken in order to
relieve the pressure on the center, had no effect. The Russians were
forced to retreat, and left 15 officers, 3,600 men, 1 cannon, and 8
machine guns in the hands of their enemies. However, the Russians came
on again and again, and the battle continued for a number of days.
Step by step the Russian troops were forced back again toward the
Styr. Village after village was stormed by the combined Austro-German
forces. In many cases small villages changed hands three or four times
in as many days. Not a day passed without repeated attempts on the
part of both sides to break through the line. But though some of these
were successful, sometimes for the Russians and sometimes for their
adversaries, the gains were only temporary and local, and were usually
wiped out again before long. On November 16, 1915, however, the
Austro-German forces gained a decided victory over the Russians, who
were thrown back to the east bank of the Styr under very heavy losses.
By that time the winter weather had become too severe for extensive
operations, and comparative inactivity ruled along that part of the
front.

While the Battle of Tchartorysk was raging, engagements of varying
importance and extent, but all of great severity and costly to victor
and vanquished alike, took place at other parts of the Volhynian,
Galician, and Bessarabian front. Just south of Tchartorysk, near Kolki
on the Styr, Austrian troops gained additional territory on October 7,
1915. Still farther south at Olyka, west of Rovno, the Russians were
thrown back by a bayonet attack, carried out by two Austro-Hungarian
infantry regiments. On the Ikwa, northwest of Kremenets, a very bitter
struggle ensued for the village of Sopanov, which during one day,
October 7, 1915, changed hands not less than four times, but finally
remained in the possession of Austro-Hungarian forces west of
Tarnopol. Russian attacks gained temporary successes, which were lost
again when German and Austro-Hungarian reenforcements were brought to
their assistance. On October 8, 1915, these attacks were not only
repeated, but new attacks developed on the Strypa at Buczacz, Tluste,
and Burkanov, which, however, were all repulsed. During these two days
the Russians lost over 6,000 men on the Styr and Strypa Rivers. Again,
on October 9-10, 1915, the Russians attacked along these two waterways
and on the Ikwa. On the latter day four separate attacks were launched
at Burkanov alone. On the 14th another attempt was made to break
through the line west of Tarnopol. Then a period of comparative rest
set in for about a week.

But on October 20, 1915, a new Russian attack near Novo Alexinez, a
small border village, resulted in a slight gain, which, however, could
not be enlarged in spite of heroic efforts. An attack east of Zaloshe
on the Sereth was likewise without success. Both of these were
repeated on October 21-22, 1915, without better results. During the
next week the fighting was reduced considerably in volume and
severity, until on October 30, 1915, a new attack with replenished
forces against the Strypa line started the ball rolling once more. On
the same day a Russian aeroplane was brought down southeast of Lutsk.

According to official figures published by the General Staffs of the
German and Austro-Hungarian armies respectively, the Russian losses
during the month of October, 1915, amounted to 244 officers, 41,000
men, 23 cannon, and 80 machine guns, all captured by German forces,
and 142 officers, 26,000 men, 1 cannon, 44 machine guns, and 3
aeroplanes captured by the Austro-Hungarian troops. Corresponding
figures for the armies of the Central Powers are not available.

On the last day of October, 1915, renewed fighting broke out again on
the Strypa, near Sikniava, where the Russians had concentrated strong
forces. The Austrians met a strong attack with a prompt counterattack
and carried the day. As before, the fighting, once started at one
point on the Strypa, quickly spread. On November 2, 1915, the
engagement at Sikniava was continued, and a new attack developed near
Buczacz with the usual more or less negative result for both
sides--maintenance of all attacked positions without gain of new
territory. Another series of very bitter clashes occurred between
November 4-7, 1915, near the village of Sienkovce on the Strypa.
During the same period fighting went on also at many other points of
that small river, which by this time had seen the flow of almost as
much blood as water.

Southeast of the village of Visnyvtszyk on the Strypa seven separate
Russian attacks were launched within these four days. On the 7th a
strong attack was made also in the neighborhood of Dubno from the
direction of Rovno without gaining ground. Isolated attacks of varying
extent took place for a few more days. But by that time severe winter
weather restricted operations in this sector just as it had done along
the balance of the eastern front. Of course occasional attacks were
started whenever a lull in the snowstorms or a favorable change in
temperature made it possible. But, generally speaking, the Styr and
Strypa section now settled down to trench fighting, artillery duels,
and minor engagements between advanced outposts. The Russian losses
during the month of November, 1915, as far as they were inflicted by
Austro-Hungarian troops, totaled 78 officers, 12,000 men, and 32
machine guns.

Late in December, 1915, on the 24th, the Russians, disregarding
climatic conditions, once more began an extensive offensive movement
in East Galicia and on the Bessarabian border, with Czernovitz, the
capital of the Austro-Hungarian province of Bukowina, as its
apparent objective. It lasted until January 15, 1916, or
twenty-three days, interrupted only occasionally by a day or two of
slightly decreased activity. Its net result for the Russian army, in
spite of very heavy losses in killed, wounded, and captured, was
only the certainty of having inflicted fairly heavy losses on the
German and Austro-Hungarian troops opposing them. Territory they
could not gain, at least not to a large enough extent to be of any
influence on the further development of events. The severest
fighting during these operations took place near Toporoutz and
Rarawotse on the Bessarabian border. Much of it was at very close
range, and on many days the Russians made three and four, sometimes
even more, successive attacks against one and the same problem.
Especially bitter fighting occurred on January 11, 1916, when one
position was attacked five times during the day and a sixth time as
late as ten o'clock that night.

Coinciding with the Russian attempt to break once more through the
Austro-Hungarian line into the Bukowina, attacks were launched from
time to time at various places on the Dniester, Sereth, and Strypa,
especially in the vicinity of Buczacz. None of these, however, had any
effect, nor were other very occasional attacks west of Rovno and on
the Styr of more avail. During the three weeks of fighting the
Russians, according to official Austro-Hungarian figures, lost over
5,000 men by capture.

[Illustration: The Battle Front In Russia, January 1, 1916.]

After a few days' lull the Russian armies began another battle with
strong forces near Toporoutz and Bojan, east of Czernovitz, on January
18, 1916. The severity of the fighting increased on the next day,
January 19, 1916, and at the same time heavy artillery fire was
directed against many other points along the East Galician front.
Again the Russians suffered severe losses during their repeated
storming attacks against the strongly fortified positions of the
Austro-Hungarian troops. After two days' preparation, by means of
artillery fire, another attack was thrust against the Toporoutz
section on January 22, 1916, but when this, too, did not bring the
desired result the Russians apparently lost heart. For, from then on
for the balance of January, 1916, as well as through the entire month
of February, 1916, they made further attacks only at very rare
intervals, but otherwise restricted themselves to artillery duels and
trench fighting.




CHAPTER XXVII

ON THE TRACKS OF THE RUSSIAN RETREAT


In the preceding chapters we have followed, day by day, the military
events of the Russian retreat and of the German advance after the fall
of Warsaw and Ivangorod. With admiration we have heard of the deeds of
valor accomplished by the various armies of the three belligerents.
The endurance that they displayed, the hardships that they had to
bear, the losses that they suffered--both victor and conquered--have
given us a clearer idea what war means to the men that actually wage
it. Occasionally we have had glimpses of the devastation that it
brings to the country over the hills and valleys and over the plains
and forests of which it rages. Again and again we have been told of
the horrible suffering and utter ruin which was the share of the civic
population, rich and poor, young and old, man, woman, or child. But
these latter features are apt to be overshadowed by the more
sensational events of battle and siege, and in the excitement of these
we easily lose sight of the tremendous drama in which not trained
soldiers act the parts, but ordinary everyday beings, farmers and
merchants, working men and women, students and scholars, people of
every age, race, and condition, people just like we ourselves and like
those with whom we come in daily contact throughout our entire life.
And yet their numbers run into the tens of millions as compared with
the hundreds of thousands or perhaps four or five millions of
soldiers, and it is _their_ suffering--bared as it is of the glory and
excitement that usually lightens the life of the fighting man--that is
the quintessence of war's tragedy.

No one who has not been himself a participant or an actual observer of
these horrors can really and truly gauge their full extent or describe
them adequately. But a clear record of them is as much an essential
requirement of a war's history as a chronological narration of its
various events. In the following paragraphs will be found gathered
reliable reports based on the keen observation of men who in their
capacity as special correspondents of various newspapers had
opportunities to collect and observe facts at close range and the very
vicinity where they transpired. They come from various sources, but
chiefly from the narrative of a war correspondent published in the
Munich "Neueste Nachrichten," who was himself an eyewitness of what he
describes. Although they refer more especially to that part of Russia
that is situated between the Galician border and the fortress of
Brest-Litovsk--the region of the Bug River--they might have been
written equally well of any part or all of the eastern theatre of war,
for they are typical of what happened throughout that vast territory
that stretches from the eastern front as it stood at the time of
Warsaw's fall in the beginning of August, 1915, to that other line
that formed a new front, much farther to the east, when the German
advance into Russia came to an end in the latter part of October,
1915:

"The first anniversary of the war had just passed. Again summer was
upon us, like in those days of mobilization. The atmosphere was full
with memories of the beginning of the campaign. Out of Galicia an
endless column rolled to the north into Poland. The old picture: the
creaking road, overloaded with marching troops, with artillery lustily
rolling forward, with caravans of supply trains. Repeating itself a
thousandfold, the sum total of the mass deepened the impression and
made the idea of the 'supreme command of an army' appear like a fairy
tale. Supply wagon after supply wagon, mile after mile, in a long,
never-breaking chain!

"The greater the distance of the observer, the deeper becomes the
impression of the general impulse of advance, of the sameness of its
direction and motion. Can we see a difference as compared with earlier
times? Can we notice if the new class of soldiers are equal to the
older; if the horses are in the same good condition as before? All in
all, it is the same play, even if with new actors in its parts, which
was acted before us during the very first days of the war, never to be
forgotten: a variety of types, unified by the purpose that was common
to all.... Of course, the close observer will always be able to make
distinctions. To him all soldiers are not just soldiers. Through their
uniforms he will recognize the farmer, the artisan, the factory hand,
the slim young volunteer, the genial 'Landwehr' or 'Landsturm' man,
the teacher, schoolboy, student, clerk, and professional soldier.

"Before them stretches a new country. Broader plains, lower ranges of
hills than in Galicia. To the right and left, as far as the eye
reaches, fields, meadows, and swamps. Here and there, windmills.
Immense forests, different from those they knew at home: pines, oaks,
and birches, all mixed together, with some ash-trees and poplars, only
slightly cut down and low of growth. The retreating Russians have
tried everywhere to burn down forest and field, but have destroyed in
most places only narrow strips and small spots that look now like
islands: there the trees have been bared of their foliage in the
middle of the summer as if it were the early spring, and the pines are
red and brown like beech trees in the winter time. Every few miles
trenches and shelters had been cut into the landscape and ran across
field and forest, hills and valleys, masterpieces of their kind,
cunningly hidden, partly untouched. Alongside the road there were
many, many soldiers' graves, singly or sometimes combined into small
cemeteries. The Russians bury their dead with devotion. Double-armed
Greek crosses betray their burial places.... But not always did they
find time during their retreat. Occasionally a penetrating odor of
decay announces the fact that some of their dead had to be deprived
of burial. Then, very rarely only, indeed, one comes across black,
swollen corpses, so terribly gnawed and disfigured by millions of
small crawling animals, that all individuality, all humanity, has been
destroyed.

"The advance moves on for miles on curious roads. Are these still
roads? There is no foundation. Just cuts have been made into the
ground, which is sandy here and muddy there and again swampy. During
dry weather they take turns in being dusty like the desert, or hard as
stone or gently yielding; during rain they are without exception
unreliable, spiteful, dangerous. The burden of the uninterrupted
transport traffic escapes to the left and to the right farther and
farther into the edges of the fields, cutting off continuously new
widths of wheel tracks so that roadways are formed 150 to 300 feet
wide, which narrow down only at bridges or fords by sheer necessity.
All bridges, even those that have been spared by the Russians, have to
be solidly renewed and supported, for they had never been intended for
such demands. Across furrows and deeply cut wheel tracks, across loose
footbridges, through puddles that are more like ponds, and through
deep holes, motorcars--fast automobiles and gigantic motor
trucks--rush and rumble madly, from time to time helplessly sinking
down into the mud and mire till relays of horses and the force of the
next detachment pushing forward on its way rescues them and they are
off again."

"The road is lined with a sad seam of dead horses. Still other
cadavers poison the air and entice swarms of greedy crows. The
Russians have killed all cattle which they were unable to carry along
quickly enough or to eat upon the spot, and then left the carcasses on
or alongside the road: cattle, pigs, sheep have been shot down in this
fashion, so that the pursuer should find no other booty than ashes and
carrion.

"At some distance from the line of march there may be left some
untouched villages, sound, normal, human settlements. But one does not
see them. Wherever the fighting has been going on, we pass by débris
and ruins. Big villages have been burned from one end to the other
into empty rows of chimneys and blackened heaps of tumbled-down
houses.

"The churches alone sometimes have been shown some respect. As far as
they have not been riddled by shells or have not lost their roofs,
they are still standing, clean and almost supernatural with their
white or pink wooden walls, their shrilly blue or deep red domes, and
their shining gilt decorations. Everything else has gone up in flames
or has been shot to pieces.

"Out of the general wreckage a few utensils and pieces of furniture
stick out here and there: bent beds, crumpled-up sewing machines,
half-melted pans and pots. Sometimes it is even possible to form an
idea of the former appearance of a house from the design of its
blackened wall paper or from a few remnants of some other decorations.
Here and there small corners and nooks have been preserved as if by a
miracle, and, in some unaccountable way, have survived the ruin that
surrounds them on all sides: strips of a flower garden, or perhaps a
summer-house with a table in it and a cover and breakfast dishes on
the table.

"Up on a chimney, half of which has tumbled down, stands a stork, as
if he were meditating over the ruin wrought by human hands; suddenly
he pulls himself together, spreads out his wings with quick decision,
floats down into his familiar pond and forgets the raving of maddened
mankind in the enjoyment of a juicy frog. Through the labyrinth of a
fallen-down barn limps a big black cat, tousled and scratched, already
half-maddened from hunger, vicious like a wounded panther. Along what
had been once streets run packs of dogs gone wild, restlessly smelling
at dirt and corpses, growing bolder day by day until finally they have
to be shot down.

"Only few people can stand it on this God-forsaken stage of misery.
Occasionally a few thin Jews in their long coats walk across the ruins
of the market place, which look like a stage setting. On their
shoulders they carry in a bundle their few belongings, like pictures
of the Wandering Jew. Their families live for a short time from
whatever they can scratch together from the ruins or out of the
trampled-down fields. They cook and bake on one of the stoves standing
everywhere right out in the open road and offer their poor wares for
exhibition and sale on a few boards, a last effort to support life by
trade. In the case of the women, no matter what the nationality, it
always seems as if they had saved out of the horrible destruction only
their best and brightest clothes. At a distance their colors shine and
smile as if nothing at all had happened. But upon coming up closer,
one can easily see how little these unfortunate beings carry on their
poor backs.

"More than once we stand perplexed before the touching picture of a
short rest on the 'flight to Egypt.' A little family--is it the only
one that has remained behind when everybody else wandered away, or
have they already come back home because there was nothing better to
be found out in the world? In the garden of a plundered farmhouse they
have put up a poor imitation of a stable out of charred boards, and in
it they live more poorly than the poorest gypsies. Their lean cow has
been tied to a bush; among the trampled-down vegetables their equally
lean mule grazes. The mother squats on the ground, nursing a child,
while father and son are stirring up a heap of glowing ashes and
roasting a handful of potatoes that they have dug up somewhere.

"The return pilgrimage of the natives has already begun at an
extensive rate. The advancing Germans are met everywhere by long lines
of them, on foot and in wagons, carrying with them carefully and
lovingly the few remnants of their herds. What has been their
experience?

"One nice day the Cossacks had appeared at their farms and had told
them: 'Not a soul is allowed to remain here. The Germans are
approaching and the Germans will torture you all to death if they
catch you. Take with you whatever you can carry. Everything else must
be burned and destroyed, so that the Germans won't find anything that
they can use.' That was enough to make these poor, ignorant farmers
take leave of their homesteads. By the thousands they wandered off
quickly and without much hesitation. Some were driven away like so
much cattle, day by day farther into an uncertain future. Others were
carried in long columns of wagons to the nearest railroad and still
others were led orderly by their own mayors and village elders. In
the inland of the Empire they were to found for themselves new homes.
The czar was going to look after them. Russia is powerful and rich. It
will lure the Germans into its swamps so that they will drown there
miserably. It will draw them all the way to Moscow and there they will
experience the deadly fate of 1812. Just like Napoleon will the
Germans suffer this time. This patriotic hope, however, did not
compensate the farmers for their lost homes. It is true they get
enough to eat every day. At their resting places they are fed from
field kitchens supplied and equipped by the Russian army and
administered by civil committees. Hunger they did not need to suffer.
But for all that, their home-sickness will not down, and the dislike
of the continuous wandering, the aversion to strange places, the
loathing of the unorderly, irregular life of nomads strengthens their
determination to turn off their road at the first opportunity and to
seek the long way back to their village, in spite of the terrible
Germans.

"But in the meantime the world has been turned upside down, their
homes are unrecognizable; nothing, absolutely nothing, is as it used
to be. Wherever there is the smallest nook that has remained
inhabitable, some stranger has built a nest. The new authorities speak
German, rule German, and run things in a German way. The need to
protect themselves against epidemics, and political prudence, demand
that these homeless wanderers should not be permitted to wander around
any longer at will. Into cities they are not allowed to enter, or even
to pass through them. Out in the country, the field police watch them
carefully, for more and more frequently adventurous groups are
formed--states in a very small way and without any regard for anybody
else. Strong fellows with plenty of nerve use this rare opportunity,
make themselves leaders and dictators of these groups, organize new
communities, which they rule with a strong hand, make laws, inflict
punishments, and impose their will just as they please. That makes it
necessary for the German authorities to interfere promptly and to
bring order and authority to bear on these insecure conditions. The
population is registered and no one is allowed to immigrate or to
emigrate without the proper papers.

"Of course, there are also good, carefully tended main roads besides
the bad country paths, and some of them are even paved for miles. One
of these runs right straight from the south toward the Polish city of
Cholm. For miles one can see this road, which looks like a ribbon that
grows narrower and narrower all the time; in the background is a
forest, through and beyond which the road runs. At the farther end of
the forest, on the shoulders of a hill, are the white buildings of the
monastery of the Russian bishopric of Cholm. Only when one comes
within a few hundred steps of these buildings does one see the low,
long, stretched-out little town in line with the ridge of the hills
that drop away to the north....

"A little farther on, to the northwest of this little country town, is
the larger, rich city of Lublin. There all the advantages of
civilization are in evidence: street cars, electric lights, department
stores, coffee houses. But here, too, war, want, and misery have left
their impression on everything: old men, women, children in rags,
asking for shelter and stretching out their thin arms for bread. On
all the squares troops pass and cross each other, delaying the
traffic. There are Germans and Austro-Hungarians in long columns and
then again a long line of Russian prisoners of war, marching to work.
Among the well-dressed ladies and gentlemen only rarely some figures
remind one of the fact that this is Eastern Europe: tall, thin Jews in
their long caftans and Jewish women with their unnatural wigs; male
and female beggars there are in great numbers, and they are so hungry
looking and ragged, so deep-eyed and sickly, that one can hardly
manage to swallow one's food in their vicinity, if one happened to
have chosen a seat on the terrace of one of the hotels.

"A few days later Brest-Litovsk was taken. Behind the troops that
stormed the fortifications during the night and thus forced the fall
of the city, pressed from early morning great masses of the
Austro-Hungarian and German armies. They came on over all the roads:
infantry, artillery, cavalry, engineering troops, supply detachments,
and in between, impatiently puffing, the automobiles of the higher
staff officers, everybody eager to enter the big fortress and to get
hold of the big booty.

"But what a disappointment! From far off clouds of dust and smoke
announced the fate of this famous fortress. The bridges across the Bug
had all been destroyed, those of steel blown up and the wooden ones
burned. Only slowly separate small units managed to cross on temporary
narrow bridges to the citadel. Everything else crowded together on
both sides of the road and spread out into the fields, filling the
flat surrounding country as far as the eye could reach with one
single, immense, many colored war camp: groups of horses, field
kitchens, resting infantrymen, innumerable white backs of wagon after
wagon.

"Whoever managed to enter Brest-Litovsk saw for the first time a big
city devastated and ruined as pitilessly as formerly only villages had
been made to suffer. Hundreds and hundreds of houses, once human
habitations, now smashed down to their very foundations, or mangled so
as to have lost all meaning, ruins containing nothing but broken
stones and ashes and at the best here and there a stair banister,
suspended in midair. And all destruction had not been wrought as a
result of a long siege and its continuous assaults of gunfire and
shells. In one night, at the command of the Russian authorities, this
Russian city had been laid waste. Only about one-quarter of it had
remained entirely or partly habitable. Only in the citadel were there
left supplies of any great amount. There quite some quantities of
flour and canned food, weapons and munitions, war and railroad
equipment, had escaped the well-prepared explosion, and had been saved
only because there had not been enough time to complete the work of
destruction and to explode all the mines that had been laid. A happy
exception among this horrible riot of wholesale destruction was found
occasionally in the case of some few estates of the Polish nobility.
In some way they escaped here and there and were passed by without
suffering demolition and despoliation in spite of the fact that the
villages near which they were usually located were almost always
masses of smoking ruins. The manor houses of some of these estates
often became the temporary lodging of some division or even some army
corps staff. For they filled one of the chief requirements for such
headquarters: a sufficiency of many large, light rooms which permitted
to combine the necessary offices with the officers' quarters under the
same roof. Every high command needs a number of offices for its
various branches of service, in war as well as in peace. At that, war
demands a hundredfold measure of ready cooperation and punctual
working together. What happens from early in the morning, far into the
night and often throughout the night in these offices during the
course of a lively action on the battle field is nothing more or less
than administrative activity as it is known to us and practiced in
peace, but of a degree of activity, responsibility, and decision, of
an importance and variety as times of peace do not demand from an army
officer.

"Day and night numerous telegraphs and telephones, established often
by means of very skillful and exposed connections, receive reports,
communications, inquiries, and requests from the front and transmit
orders, instructions, decisions, and information to the front, and at
the same time maintain a similar service with superior headquarters.
The number of subjects which have to be watched continuously is
legion: movements of their own and the enemy's forces; changes in
their own and the opponent's positions; news and scouting service;
losses, reserves; lodging, provisioning, arming of the troops;
sanitation, prevention of epidemics, ambulances, hospitals; counting
and handling of booty and prisoners; military law, religious matters,
gifts; health and continuity of the supply of mounts; climate,
weather, condition of the water; condition of streets, bridges,
fortifications; means of intercourse and traffic of all kinds;
railways, mails, wagons, motors, pack animals; aeroplanes; telegraph
and wireless stations.

[Illustration: Austrian infantry resting during the Teutonic drive
into Russia. Some of the men carry the picks and shovels of sappers,
while others are provided with the steel-pointed staffs of
mountaineers.]

"And all these matters, within a certain group of the army, change
hourly, perhaps, and are continuously subject to unexpected
modifications; at the same time they depend in their outward relations
on events that happen in other adjoining army groups, on the
general military and political conditions, on the decisions and
interference of general headquarters. And if the staff quarters of two
or three army groups have to consult with each other about every
action and re-action before they make their various moves, unceasing
activity must be displayed by everyone in order to accomplish all that
each day demands. This activity which at one and the same time
actuates and reports, acts, observes, and accounts, requires the
possession of many manly virtues: the energy of strong nerves,
clearness, wisdom, knowledge, self-consciousness, and decision. Every
commander shares in it. But the greatest demands are made by it on the
few supreme commanders on whom depends the fate of millions.

"Thus the summer months quickly passed by. As they passed, the advance
continued. In spite of this, however, the crops were brought in from
the fields so recently conquered. And what was accomplished in this
direction will some day form a separate chapter in the economical
history of this war.

"Much of the crops, of course, had been destroyed. In many other cases
all the agricultural machines and implements had been carried off or
destroyed. And then there was a great lack of labor. What was there to
be done? Under the leadership of officers with agricultural experience
separate commissions were formed. They gathered up all the implements
and machines that could be found or could be repaired again and then
ordered by the hundred and thousand from the country in the rear what
they still lacked and soon battalions of war prisoners were busy
peacefully gathering in the wheat in the fields. Before long the
harvest had been completed. Threshers and threshing machines were put
to work. Wherever flour mills were in condition to allow of repairs,
mechanics were set to this task. And soon a steady stream of flour
poured forth that enabled the invaders to feed their armies, their
prisoners, and whatever part of the civil population had returned, to
a great extent from supplies raised and gathered in the occupied
region itself, a remarkable success gained from a combination of
German organization, Russian labor, and Polish versatility."




CHAPTER XXVIII

SIDELIGHTS ON THE RUSSIAN RETREAT AND GERMAN ADVANCE


The difficulties which the Austro-German troops encountered in
pursuing the withdrawing Russians were in many instances greatly
increased by the very strong field fortifications which the Russians
had thrown up everywhere to stem the advance of the enemy. How
effective these fortifications were may be readily understood from the
following description which is taken from the report of a special
correspondent of a south German newspaper who had an opportunity to
inspect these positions soon after they had been wrested from the
Russians:

"In fortifying this position the Russians had indeed created a
masterwork of modern field fortification. Deep, broad trenches had
been fitted so closely to the landscape that in most instances they
could be recognized as such only at very close distances. Almost all
these trenches had been covered with a fivefold layer of tree trunks,
on top of which there was to be found another layer of earth and over
that again a solid layer of sod. The wooden pillars which supported
this covering had in many places been fastened by means of wooden
plugs into strong tree trunks, which in turn had been deeply imbedded
in the bottom of the trench. Everywhere there were to be found
openings for one and sometimes even two or three sharpshooters or for
machine guns. Powerful shelters had been erected as a protection
against shrapnel. Everywhere the trenches had been located in such a
manner that one would outflank the other. In all the trenches there
were to be found shelters, many of which were spacious enough to allow
a whole company to retreat to them, and to these the Russians withdrew
whenever the German artillery fire was directed against the trenches.
These shelters were deep down below the ground; their entrances were
comparatively small and protected with manifold layers of railroad
rails. In front of these positions had been erected strong successive
lines of entanglements which consisted partly of barbed wire and
partly of strong abatis, formed of trees and their branches. In front
of one section of these trenches the Russians had cut down a piece of
woodland between 150 and 300 feet wide. They had then left the trees
on the ground wherever they happened to have fallen and covered the
entire space with a confusion of barbed-wire entanglements."

Another difficult problem which confronted both the Russians in their
retreat and the Germans in their advance was that of transportation,
especially in the region between the Vistula and the Bug Rivers. Not
only is the number of railroads in that territory very small, but
neither side had available a large enough number of railroad cars to
transport the large number of men and vast quantities of equipment
involved. This necessitated the creation of new means of
transportation. According to a correspondent of the Hungarian
newspaper "Az Est" the problem was solved by the Austro-German armies
in a remarkable way. In the first place the number of horses before
each wagon was increased. Where formerly two horses had been used,
four were employed now, and where four used to be considered
sufficient the number was increased to six. This resulted in an
unending line of giant transports drawn by teams of four and six
horses like they had never been seen before.

The work of these horses was greatly lightened by field railways. So
quickly were these built that they seemed to grow right out of the
ground. In some places industrial railways of this nature, already in
existence, were utilized. Both steam and horsepower were used on these
railways. Valleys were bridged over; gradients were reduced by every
available means. At regular distances pleasant little block houses
were to be found, which served as stations and guardhouses. The
condition of the roads did not permit the use of motor trucks to any
great extent, but wherever there was even a thread of possibility for
motor trucks to get through they were promptly called upon to assume a
leading part as a means of transportation. The immensity of the
problem may well be understood by the fact that approximately two
thousand automobiles of all kinds were employed by the German army of
the Bug River.

All of this could be moved quickly. Everything that was necessary to
make repairs was carried along. Supplies were heaped on motor trucks,
and the officers in charge of supplies and equipment lived in
automobiles which had been fitted up like rooms. The supply and
equipment departments had their own electric-lighting system and their
separate wireless. This vast establishment could be mobilized in
twenty-four hours, and its completeness, swiftness, efficiency, and
punctuality were not only a triumph of modern industry, but were among
the chief contributing causes for the Austro-German success in
overpowering obstacles and difficulties, and for the fact that
throughout the entire campaign in Russian Poland the troops never
suffered lack of provisions and munitions.

The Russian retreat brought untold misery to the civil population of
those parts of Russia which were affected by it. Especially true was
this of those sections in which the Russian authorities decreed that
the civil population had to become participants in the retreat and
leave their homes and goods to the mercy of the invaders. The terrible
suffering and misery resulting from these conditions will, perhaps,
become more vivid from the following details taken from some Russian
newspapers which will give an idea of the conditions: "In Moscow all
railroad stations are overcrowded with refugees. Most of these are
unable to leave the freight cars in which they had arrived because the
tortures of hunger and thirst which they had to suffer during their
trip had been too much for them. Thousands upon thousands of these
unfortunate beings had been struck down by sickness, and as far as the
capacity of the Moscow hospitals allowed had been cared for, while
still other thousands had to be satisfied with accommodations in the
open squares and streets of the city, while others were removed
farther east in order to reduce the overcrowded conditions of the
city. Every day some ten thousand refugees were sent east by way of
Smolensk, Orel, and Tula. Among these were many thousands of German
colonists who had formerly been residents of Cholm and Volhynia, but
had been removed from there by order of the Russian Government
previous to the Russian retreat. The fate of all these hundreds of
thousands of refugees by the time winter will have arrived will be
horrible. What, for instance, will happen to about thirty thousand
farmers from Galicia who were removed by force and now are located in
a concentration camp on the River Slucz with nothing over their heads
except the sky?"

From all parts of the Russian Empire involved in the German advance,
streams of these unfortunate victims of war were continuously flowing
toward the east. One of the chief reasons for the extensive misery
which they had to suffer was the fact that the Russian organization,
which even in times of peace does not work any too well, broke down
completely under this unexpected and unparalleled demand on its
resources. In spite of the fact that the larger number of these
refugees were driven east by the special and express command of the
Russian authorities, the latter had made no preparations to take care
of them nor did they seem to show much worry concerning their fate.
Even some of the high Government officials pointed out, to the
responsible Government departments that, as long as the Government had
driven these unfortunate human beings away from their own homesteads
without, in most cases, giving them time to gather in even their most
necessary belongings, it had become the Government's duty to provide
for them elsewhere in some fashion. If one considers that most of
these people were without any resources whatsoever, and that the
housing and feeding of such vast masses demanded the expenditure of
large sums of money, which apparently were not available, it will
easily be understood that all these men, women, and children of all
ages and conditions suffered not only untold inconveniences, but
actually the pangs of hunger and thirst, which in a great many
instances resulted in the outbreak of epidemics and in the decimation
of whole camps.

How a civilian observer was struck by some of the conditions in Poland
may be gleaned from a description in one of the German monthly
magazines rendered by an artist who accompanied one of the German
armies on its invasion of Poland: "Of course the first thing one
learns to know is the horrible condition of roads in Russia.... One of
the other main difficulties is the lack of cleanliness which results
in so many epidemics among the population. These two conditions
presented serious problems to the invading army; for, of course, it
became necessary to remove the difficulties arising from them as much
as possible....

"The water supply also is of the worst on the eastern front, and when
I wandered in the great summer heat through the trenches or drove by
the hour with wagon and horse through the sandy wastes of Poland, I
could not help but think of the many occasions when the fighting
armies, in spite of all fatigue and hardships, had to go without
drinking water of any kind whatsoever...."

One of the greatest successes which the Germans gained in the summer
of 1915 was the taking of the fortress of Kovno. Indeed it was the
fall of this Russian bulwark as much as anything else that
precipitated most of the Russian losses after the fall of Warsaw.
Considering the importance of Kovno the following report of a special
correspondent of the "Berliner Tageblatt," who was present during its
bombardment, will be of interest. He says:

"The bombardment had reached a strength which made one believe that he
was present at a concert in the lower regions. Guns of every variety
and caliber, up to the largest, had been concentrated here and
attempted to outroar each other. In unceasing activity the batteries
spit their devastating sheaths of fire against the Russian forts and
against the fortified positions which had been thrown up by the
Russians between the forts and which had been supplied by them with
very strong artillery. The latter did its best to keep up with the
efforts of the besieging army. Day by day the Russian guns began
firing against the German lines almost as soon as the German lines had
opened their fire and the combination swelled the noise to a terrible
height.

"Exactly at seven o'clock in the evening the German guns paused for a
while in order to permit their infantry to advance. This was an
almost daily occurrence and day by day the German lines drew nearer to
the Russian forts.

"Hardly had the fire of the German guns stopped when a furious
crackling of rifle fire would begin. The German lines had left their
trenches and were advancing against the Russian position from which
they received heavy fire. Machine guns, too, joined the uproar. It was
impossible to follow the infantry attack in detail, but its success
could be gleaned from the fact that the German gun fire, which
gradually was taken up again, had to be advanced in the direction of
the fortress."

This fortress of Kovno, for which the Germans were making such a
tremendous drive and which the Russians tried to hold with all the
resources at their command, occupies in respect to the Niemen line the
same position which the fortress of Lomza occupies in respect to the
Nareff line, only in a much greater measure. And, indeed, the city is
specially adapted by its entire location to act as protector of this
important river. Between steep banks, which rise as high as 200 feet,
the stream rushes along here, surrounding the city picturesquely with
its heights and protecting it at the same time from attack. There
Kovno is situated where the Vilia joins the Niemen, and only a short
distance down the latter the Nieviaza adds its waters, so that Kovno
forms a natural center of a number of extensive valleys which join
here. It is upon these natural conditions of its situation that the
unusual importance rests which Kovno has occupied for centuries in a
historical, economical, and military respect in the history of
Lithuania, Poland, and Russia.

Founded in the eleventh century, it belonged from 1384 to 1398 to the
Order of the German Knights, who made a military point of the first
order out of it. In 1400 the Grand Duke of Lithuania attacked and
captured the town. The height of its career was reached in 1581, when
it was raised to the center of the export trade and received a custom
house. The commerce of the city at that time reached annually the sum
of three million ducats, an immense amount for that period. The
Russian czars, therefore, attempted at various times to capture the
rich city, but it was not until the third partition of Poland in 1795
that Kovno became definitely a possession of the Russian Empire.

After that Kovno suffered many reverses. In 1806 a disastrous fire
broke out and destroyed three-fourths of the city, but in spite of
this disaster and others which followed, the city recovered and gained
a certain importance in a political way, when in 1842 it was made the
capital of the newly created government of Kovno. From then on the
trade of the city grew in bounds and leaps, and it became a center of
the trading to and from Prussia. Its industries, too, were developed
extensively. Seven fortifications are situated to the south of the
city, three more protect the road to Vilna, and one the bridge across
the Vilia.

During the series of engagements near Dvinsk, in the fall of 1915,
especially severe fighting occurred on the shores of Lake Sventen. The
colonel of a Russian regiment which participated in these engagements
gave the following vivid description to a staff correspondent of the
London "Times":

"We had to secure a lodgment on the promontory nicknamed by our men
the 'Dog's Tail.' My scouts crossed the lake at night, dug themselves
in and annoyed the enemy holding the brickyard, situated upon a slight
eminence at the northern part of the promontory. A Lettish officer
commanded the scouts and organized the whole landing. Being a native
of the place, he was able to take advantage of every latent resource
afforded by the country. Thus he managed to discover a small fleet of
boats, and added to them by constructing a number of rafts. During the
night our men gradually reenforced the scouts. On the following day we
rushed the brickyard. This gave us a larger foothold to deploy one of
our regiments, and storm what we called 'Bald Hill,' while another
regiment gave its attention to 'Red Hill,' to the southwest.

"Our advance was very slow. The Germans had a large number of Maxims,
three times as many as we had, also automatic rifles, and freely used
explosive bullets. But on our side we had our artillery massed in
several lines east of Sventen and Medum, including field and heavy
guns under good control, so that we could pour in direct or flanking
fire at will. Three days passed chiefly in artillery preparation for
our final attack. The infantry advanced slightly. Our artillery
observers were in the trenches correcting the fire of our guns. On
November 3, 1915, the enemy began to pour in a fierce flanking fire
from their guns west of Ilsen.

"When the scouts and supports moved from the 'Dog's Tail' promontory,
our neighboring corps began to advance also, and we finally extended
our right flank and gained direct contact. But all this time we were
suffering heavily from the enemy's Maxims on the heights.

"'Bald Hill' and 'Red Hill' were won on the third day. The enemy
counterattacked and retook the first named heights. Our position was
now a critical one. The waters of the lake in our rear cut off all
hope of immediate reenforcements or of eventual retreat. We had to
retake 'Bald Hill' at all costs, and we did it. My men were
tremendously encouraged by the hurricane fire kept up by our
artillery. Many of them had witnessed the terrible effects of the
German hurricane fire. For the first time they saw that our own
artillery was not only equal but even superior to anything the Germans
could do. Our gunners telephoned asking me when they should stop, so
that our men should not suffer from their fire. It seemed to me that
our shells were bursting perilously near, and I asked them to cease
fire. A half company then attacking 'Bald Hill' was immediately mown
down by the German machine guns. I at once signaled to the gunners
'keep on firing' and only when our skirmishers were within 250 paces
of the German trenches the hurricane was suspended and we went for the
Germans with the bayonet, but they did not wait."

Many of the successes gained--both by the Russians in their retreat
and by the Germans in their advance--were due to the effective work of
the aviation corps. Scouting and bomb dropping were daily occurrences.
A picturesque description of such a trip made by an aeroplane
"somewhere in Poland" is taken from "Motor" and gives a very clear
idea of the dangers to which pilot and observer are subjected at all
times as well as of the practical results of their work:

"The departure had been set for nine o'clock in the morning and, while
the pilot has already taken his place in the aeroplane and is trying
out his motor, his companion comes out of his tent. The latter wears a
wide brown leather coat, a storm cap is drawn deep down over his
forehead, a long shawl covers his throat and in order to protect
himself against the oil which the motor puffs out during the flight he
has covered his eyes with big spectacles. A sergeant with some
soldiers carry bombs to the aeroplane and pack them carefully next to
the seat of the observer. The latter takes his seat, the motor starts,
the propeller turns around quicker and quicker, and at last the pilot
waves his arm--the wedges are withdrawn from under the wheels. The
plane begins to roll along, lifts itself up from the ground and mounts
in elegant spirals higher and higher; smaller and smaller appear men
and houses; at last the aerostat shows 3,000 feet; the observer gives
a sign and the plane turns in the direction of the enemy. It is
comparatively easy to find the way: the railroad tracks which run
toward the lines of the enemy serve as a guide; the aeroplane follows
them above villages chopped into ruins by gunfire, whose houses look
like small toy boxes. Suddenly, dark lines appear which run toward the
west: trenches of the enemy which unroll themselves to the observer as
if they were on a map. And right away small white clouds arise, the
first greetings which the enemy fires toward the aeroplane, but under
which the latter rushes by descending quickly.

"At last the trench zone has been crossed; the country in back of it
appears to be strewn with pits and funnels caused by the explosion of
big caliber shells. Here and there destroyed villages are to be seen
from which dark pillars of smoke arise. Then the first roadway about
which information is to be gathered appears. Peacefully it lies in the
sunlight. Farther toward the west, however, the street becomes more
lively; but the black specks which move down there are only a few
automobiles which most likely carry some members of the general staff
of the enemy and offer nothing worth while observing. But a little
farther back a dark line and many small specks appear--detachments on
the march. The observer leans over his map, compares, looks down once
more, then marks the observation on his map and the time at which it
was made, and on goes the journey. In the streets of a larger place,
which is reached soon afterward, a crowd of people are observed; in
front of a church are standing at regular distances a number of
wagons, a short wagon in front and back of it shapes that look like a
frame--cannon. The observer continues to make marks on his map and at
the same time a sharp sound is heard at his side and in the upper
plane a slash appears. He waves his hand and the pilot sharply turns
to the left. The observer reaches for a bomb and holds it over the
edge of the aeroplane, drops it, and immediately afterward a flash
appears among the cannon and the crowd on the market place disperses
in wild flight. Another wave of the hand, another turn to the left,
another bomb. The result is satisfactory; at least one cannon has been
destroyed. But now it begins to become unpleasant; to the right and to
the left, in front and in back, small white clouds arise; down there
the bombardment has begun and it must make quite a loud noise which,
however, is drowned in the noise of the motor. The pilot stops the
motor and silently and gently the aeroplane descends into less
dangerous heights; then the motor again begins to work and the
aeroplane quickly turns its course toward the southwest following the
white band of the country road.

"Suddenly white wisps of smoke arise over the tree tops of a near-by
forest; again the observer makes some entries and, while the aeroplane
rushes furiously forward, marks down with his pencil one body of
troops after another. Above a freight station another stop is made; on
the platforms of its storehouses men rush along busily. Their work
will have to be disturbed: a motion of the hand, a pull on the motor
which starts the descent, a grasp for the third bomb--and a railway
guardhouse collapses into itself. The last bomb hits its mark even
better; it explodes right in the middle between two cars without,
however, hurting anybody; for the workmen have run away as quickly as
their feet will carry them; pillars of fire roar up high; gasoline or
coal oil supplies apparently have been hit. To determine this
definitely is impossible, for the aeroplane must rush on. After a
short time, its commission executed, it turns back toward the east;
the batteries which had been observed a short while ago and the lines
of trenches are again passed and at last the tents of the hangar come
into view; the cross, showing the place for landing, becomes visible;
the descent begins; the wheels touch the ground with a sharp jolt; the
observer jumps out of his seat and runs up to his commander to make
his report."




CHAPTER XXIX

WINTER ON THE EASTERN FRONT


By the end of November, 1915, winter had set in along the eastern
front. Especially along the northern part of the eastern line this
necessitated almost a complete stoppage of operations. For there the
weather becomes very severe. The ground freezes sometimes to a depth
of three and more feet, which, of course, makes it impossible to dig
trenches quickly. But just as soon as trench digging at short notice
became impossible operations had to cease. For whenever armies advance
over closely contested ground--as was the case all along the eastern
line--the advance by necessity is slow, possibly over only a few miles
every day. And every time the line is pushed forward, and trenches
previously occupied are left behind, it becomes necessary with each
step of the advance to dig new trenches unless the advanced line was
fortunate enough to be able to stop the day's work in the trenches of
the enemy, a possibility which, of course, did not offer itself any
too frequently. And even then a lot of digging was necessary, because
what was previously, during the enemy's occupation, the back of a
trench line now had to be turned into its front. All of this digging,
or at least most of it, had to be done quickly, in order to avoid the
loss of the newly gained positions by the success of hostile
counterattacks. But both sides alike found it impossible to dig
quickly, or, for that matter, in most cases to dig at all when the
ground was frozen solid. So both sides found themselves condemned to a
more or less continuous state of inactivity as far as all war
operations were concerned, excepting only artillery duels, mining,
aeroplane attacks, sniping from each other's trenches, and all those
other more or less insignificant operations that are usually called by
the generic term "trench warfare."

Although the Russians were acknowledged masters of trench digging and
of throwing up well-planned and efficiently defended field
fortifications of every kind, and also the great mass of their
soldiers were much more accustomed to severe winters than the German
forces, because a very much larger part of the Russian than of the
German Empire is subject to very low winter temperatures, still the
Germans, all in all, had the advantage over their adversaries under
these conditions. In the first place the percentage of mechanically
and scientifically trained men in the German army is far greater than
that in the Russian army, because the latter is recruited primarily
from an agricultural population, whereas the former draws its largest
numbers from an intensively industrial body. Furthermore, organization
within and without the army had been developed to a far higher degree
by the Germans than by their eastern neighbors. It is, therefore, not
at all surprising to hear of the marvelous preparations that the
Germans had made for the approaching winter, and inasmuch as most of
this information is gathered from Russian sources, there can be little
doubt of its correctness.

Down below in their trenches, covering the walls of their dugouts, the
Germans had erected light metal buildings. These had been manufactured
back in Germany in immense quantities in simple, standardized parts.
Easily shipped in a "knockdown" condition, they were just as easily
put up and put together, and all of them were fitted with heating
apparatus of some kind. Warm clothing of every kind and description
had either been manufactured at the Government's expense or had been
collected from private sources throughout the empire by appealing to
the nation at large by means of the newspapers. Although the
statement, frequently heard, that each man had a sleeping sack
undoubtedly was vastly exaggerated, vast quantities of these useful
articles had been distributed. Then, too, officers, from captains
down, gave their men detailed instructions and orders how to protect
themselves efficiently against severe cold, and how to treat promptly
and effectively any of the many ailments that are apt to afflict
people unused to very low temperatures in a rather moist region, from
frostbite down to colds.

From every possible line of human enterprise the Germans, according to
Russian reports, apparently tried to learn lessons which might become
applicable in these near-arctic conditions on the east front. Having
been taught by the previous winter's experience the impossibility of
trench digging, they promptly organized extensive mining detachments
among their engineering troops, augmenting the latter in great
quantities by soldiers from other branches of their general service
who, from their experiences in times of peace, had become particularly
adaptable to such work. These mining troops, later on in the winter,
were to creep forward under the protection of night's shadows and
blast with dynamite those trenches that were absolutely essential for
cover of advancing troops and that could not be dug in the frozen
ground with more simple tools. Long before this, however, while winter
had not yet shown its full severity, these troops were busily occupied
with the preparation of land mines, which were to act as substitutes
for barbed-wire entanglements when freezing snow, piling up many feet
high, rendered the latter useless. Previous experience, too, had
taught that, when such weather conditions arose, the immense
quantities of snow that fall in these regions not only completely
covered barbed-wire entanglements, but as repeated snowstorms
thickened the mass day by day, and sleet and thaw, caused by an
occasional hour's sunshine, hardened it, made it even possible for the
enemy's forces to advance securely on it in spite of, and on the very
top of, all barbed-wire obstacles.

Throughout the first winter of the war the Germans had also used ski
detachments. Most of these were employed in the mountainous regions of
the western front. But small troops had been sent to East Prussia and
had proven themselves very valuable there. Again and again Russian
troops, attempting operations on ground covered with two or three
days' snowfall, had sunk to their waists and chests into the snow and
had become easy prey to attacks made by German soldiers on skis. So
the Germans early in the fall, when certain parts of south Germany and
Austria, covered with high mountains, lend themselves admirably for
ski practice, had sent time after time detachments of carefully
selected infantry troops to these regions and had made ski experts out
of them. Sledges too--large and small--had been provided in
quantities, because they had proven their value as means of
transporting men and supplies where all other means had failed
absolutely.

With the approach of real winter all these comparatively new features
of warfare were put to use. Of course the Germans were by no means the
only ones to profit from past experience and from the modern advance
of the sciences and mechanical industries. But from all reports it is
clear that they outdid the Russians in inventiveness as well as in the
thoroughness and extent of their preparations.

"Jack Frost" also definitely stopped regular fighting. With its
arrival war at the eastern front deteriorated into more or less of a
guerrilla war. Instead of attempts to break through the line by miles,
both sides settled down to a bitter contest for choice pieces of
ground here and there. An exchange of a bit of high ground for a
nasty, damp trench in a bog was considered quite a victory. The
capture of a small supply train by a small detachment that had managed
to sneak through the line at some point unobserved or unoccupied,
because it apparently was impossible for occupation on account of the
nature of the ground, was as much talked about as only a victory in a
real engagement would have been two or three months ago. In a way,
both the Russian and German and Austro-Hungarian armies had a much
more severe time of it on the east front than the German and
Franco-English forces had at the west front. First of all, the latter
was located in much more civilized regions, cleaner, therefore, and
healthier. Then, too, the nature of the ground in the west was less
hard on the fighters, higher in most places, and, therefore, drier.
Furthermore, the western line was practically an unbroken line from
the English Channel down to the Swiss border. In the east, however,
marshes, lakes, and rivers made an unbroken line impossible. All along
the front there were innumerable gaps. Of course many of these were
gaps because no human being could find a foothold on them, and,
therefore, needed no watching. Others, however, while impossible for
occupation, were not equally impossible for passage, provided those
that attempted to pass were willing to take great risks. And there was
no lack of such on either side. So Russians, Germans, and
Austro-Hungarians had to be continuously on the jump to prevent such
raids of their lines which, though they might have been very small in
the beginning, might have had very serious consequences. These
conditions, therefore, made war on the east front for everybody
concerned truly a war of attrition, equally racking for nerves and
bodies.

Only one other event of importance occurred on the east front during
the winter of 1915-16. General Russky, commanding the Russian forces
fighting before Riga and Dvinsk and in the Dvina-Vilia sector, was
forced by illness to retire from his command. He was succeeded by
General Everth, who up to then had commanded the next adjoining army
group, from the Vilia down to the Pripet Marshes, and who now assumed
command over all the Russian forces from the Gulf of Riga to the
Pripet Marshes. Farther down the line General Ivanoff continued the
leadership that he had assumed after the German advance had come to a
standstill at the end of October.

Thus the winter passed. As we have learned in some of the preceding
chapters, operations were resumed in a small way at certain points
along the line from time to time. With the approach of the spring of
1916 these activities slightly increased in extent and severity. But
both sides, as long as frost continued, were satisfied with this state
of conditions and with never-ceasing preparations for new offensive
operations to begin as soon as nature would permit.




PART VI--THE BALKANS




CHAPTER XXX

BATTLE CLOUDS GATHER AGAIN


Though Serbia had been the first to be attacked by the Central Powers
when the world war began, the end of the first year's fighting was to
find her still unconquered, though she had passed through ordeals
quite as severe as those suffered by Belgium.

Let us review, briefly, the events of the first year:

Hardly had hostilities been declared by Austria-Hungary, on July 28,
1914, when the armies of the Dual Empire began gathering along the
Serbian frontiers; then, within a few days, they hurled themselves
into Serbia, hoping to overwhelm her by the sheer weight of their
numbers. Not only did the soldiers of the little Balkan nation
withstand the onslaught of the imperial troops, but within the week
they had swept them back, driving them across the frontiers.

So astounded was the Austrian General Staff, so dumfounded was it by
this unexpected disaster, that it required some weeks to realize what
had happened, and to prepare for a second and mightier attempt to
overcome the resistance of the Serbians.

On came the Austrians again, only to suffer a second defeat. Then they
made their third and mightiest effort, and this time every available
resource of the empire was strained to the utmost; every soldier not
absolutely needed elsewhere was utilized. And this time, indeed, the
Austrian forces did penetrate some distance within Serbian territory,
and for over a fortnight the Serbian capital was theirs. But their
initial success only made their final defeat the more complete. For
the third time the Serbian soldiers beat them back, and from that
date, December 14, 1914, Serbia remained undisturbed by foreign
invasion for almost a year.

Shortly after the beginning of the New Year, came an enemy for whom
the Serbians were not so well prepared: a typhus epidemic, which took
almost as many victims as had the fighting. Realizing their
helplessness, the Serbians uttered an appeal for help, and almost
every nation, not an enemy, including the United States, responded
generously with money, and by sending Red Cross corps to nurse the
plague victims. By the summer of 1915, the epidemic had spent itself,
after decimating the army and the civil population.

Meanwhile a danger threatened the Serbians which overshadowed even
that from the Austrians; namely the danger that other Balkan nations,
and especially Bulgaria, might join the Teutonic Powers. Serbia had
already shown that she could take care of the Austrians alone, but
with Bulgaria attacking her flank, even the most optimistic realized
that the fight against such odds probably would be hopeless.

Turkey, even while Serbia was hurling back the Austrians for the
second time, in November, 1914, was the first to declare herself in
favor of the Teutons by attacking the Russians. Then began the game of
diplomacy to win over the Christian states to the Allies. All had
declared themselves neutral, even Greece, though she was bound by a
treaty to assist Serbia against foreign attack. But it was generally
realized that each was only watching for the first signs of weakness
on either side before deciding which to support. To give weight to her
diplomacy Great Britain began her military operations on Gallipoli, on
the understanding with Greece, of which Venizelos was then premier,
that Greek troops should assist. But Venizelos was forced to resign by
the Greek King and the governing clique, and Greece continued to
maintain her neutrality.

Rumania, in spite of her leanings toward the Allies, remained firm in
her neutrality. Bulgaria was more explicit; she made it understood
that she would join that side which could most effectually guarantee
her possession of the territory in Macedonia which she considered she
had won in the First Balkan War and which was given over to Serbia and
Greece after the Second Balkan War by the Treaty of Bucharest.
Throughout the year the negotiations continued whereby the Allies
attempted to persuade Greece and Serbia to agree to Bulgaria's terms,
but Greece continued obdurate in her determination to hold all she
had, and Serbia yielded only in part, and very reluctantly. In August,
1915, beginning the second year of the war, these negotiations were
still in progress. As it was still unknown publicly that Bulgaria had
already signed a secret alliance with Germany, the situation was
considered favorable to the Allies, especially as on August 22, 1915,
it was announced that Venizelos was again to become prime minister of
Greece.

The first indication that King Ferdinand and his cabinet had come to a
decision was in the agitation that appeared in Bulgaria itself among
the leaders of the opposition parties, protesting against the
Germanophile policy of the Government. On September 18, 1915, a
deputation of these leaders had an interview with the king, in which
they made their protest; the report was that a stormy scene occurred,
in which several members of the deputation used language to the effect
that should the king go against the popular feeling, which was in
favor of the Entente, it would cost him his throne. They also demanded
that the National Assembly be convened.

The king's reply was to order a general order of mobilization of the
Bulgarian army. At the same time a note was issued to all foreign
representatives in which the Government stated explicitly that
Bulgaria had no intention of entering the war; that she had called her
men to the colors only to maintain an "armed neutrality," as Holland
and Switzerland were doing. In spite of these assurances, Greece also
began mobilizing. On September 20, 1915, there appeared a significant
statement in the German official report of military operations, to the
effect that German artillery, stationed on the Danube opposite
Semendria, had opened fire on a Serbian position. Never before had
there been mention of German guns so far south. Altogether, the
situation in the Balkans was now becoming acute.

On September 28, 1915, Sir Edward Grey made a statement in the British
Parliament which made the world realize that a crisis in the Balkans
was imminent. He announced that efforts were still being made to
arrange an agreement between Bulgaria and Serbia and Greece regarding
Macedonia, "but," he added significantly, "if Bulgaria assumes an
aggressive attitude on the side of our enemies, we will support our
friends in the Balkans with all our power, in concert with our Allies
and without reserve or qualification."

This was followed up by another statement on October 1, 1915, to the
effect that German and Austrian officers were arriving in the
Bulgarian capital, creating a situation of "the utmost gravity."
Within forty-eight hours, Russia issued an ultimatum to Bulgaria
demanding that the German and Austrian officers in Sofia be removed
within twenty-four hours, otherwise Russia would sever all diplomatic
relations with King Ferdinand's Government. To this Bulgaria made no
immediate reply, with the result that the Russian Minister left Sofia
the next day. Premier Radoslavov, however, on the same day, published
an official statement that there were no German or Austrian officers
in Sofia and that Bulgaria had no intention of breaking her
neutrality. Meanwhile came reports through Greece stating that
Bulgarian troops were being massed up against the Serbian frontier. As
subsequent events soon proved, Bulgaria was determined to hide her
real purpose to the last moment; not until she actually made her first
attack did she cease denying her hostile intentions.

That Bulgaria was acting in cooperation with the Teutonic allies was
obvious, for already the Serbians had observed that great forces were
being mobilized across the rivers, along her northern and northwestern
frontiers, along the banks of the Danube, the Save, and the Drina.

What did not develop so soon was the fact that this new invasion was
to be under the leadership of the German General von Mackensen, and
that the invaders were to consist in large part of German regiments.
During the summer Mackensen had been engaged in directing a strong
Austro-German offensive against the Russians, with conspicuous
success. For weeks after he had left this front and was busy
organizing a similar offensive against the Serbians, the German
official dispatches continued to associate his name with actions on
the Russian front that the preparations in the south might continue
secret as long as possible.

Not long after the first Austro-German guns began hurling their shells
across the Danube, against the Serbian position at Semendria, the
Serbians learned of the disposition and the resources of the enemy.
The troops under Mackensen were divided into two armies, each in close
contact with the other. One of these wings was under the command of a
German, General von Gallwitz, who had distinguished himself against
the Russians a short time previously. The men under him were entirely
Germans. The other army was under the command of an Austrian, General
von Kövess von Kövesshaza. His men were both German and Austrian, the
latter predominating.

The army under Gallwitz extended from Orsova, near the Rumanian
frontier, along the Danube westward to a point opposite Semendria.
Here his right flank joined Kövess's line, which extended up past
Belgrade, along the Save and part way up the Drina. The rest of the
frontier up the Drina was covered by a smaller Austrian army.

Altogether, the Austro-German armies comprised at least 300,000 men.
The Austrians were picked troops, for it was only natural that the
general staff wished to retrieve, in some measure, the humiliation of
the previous year. The Germans, numbering fully half of the total
force, were also hardened veterans, who had seen plenty of fighting on
the Russian front or in France or Flanders.

Mackensen's overwhelming success in driving the Russians out of
Galicia had been mainly due to his artillery, that arm of the military
service in which the Germans excelled all their enemies. And here,
too, the artillery was to play an important part, for fully 2,000
cannon, nearly all of mid-caliber and heavy caliber, had been brought
down against the Serbians. During the first three invasions the
Austrians had thrown their infantry up against the Serbian lines. Now
German tactics were to be tried: the Serbian trenches and other
defensive positions were to be pulverized with powerful explosives,
then rushed with infantry.

Though they had been undisturbed for so long, the Serbians were by no
means in doubt as to what was yet to come. They had realized that
eventually the enemy would return more determined and more powerful
than ever. Therefore, they had spent the nine months since the last
defeat of the Austrians in extensive preparations. Line after line of
trenches had been built back into the interior of the country, and all
the possible crossings on the rivers had been heavily fortified.
Moreover, they had drained the civilian population of every male
person strong enough to carry a gun.

At this time, when the fourth invasion began threatening, their army
mustered fully 310,000 men, slightly more than the Austro-German. In
regard to small arms and ammunition they were also at least equal to
the enemy, for vast consignments of military stores had been sent into
the country by the Allies. Only in heavy artillery were they inferior,
but then this was also true of all the armies facing the Germans
throughout Europe.

Therefore, had the Serbians been called upon to defend themselves only
against General von Mackensen's armies, it is highly probable that
they would have been able to give the same answer as they had the year
previous. So probable, in fact, that Mackensen would hardly dared to
have attacked them with only 300,000 men. To be sure, their enemy was
no longer made up of raw recruits and there was now the heavy
artillery as well as a commander of great ability to face, but the
preparations they had made in defensive works, as well as the
mountainous nature of their country, more than made up for these
advantages possessed by their opponents. It was the Bulgarians who
would turn the scale.

Because of the greed for territory of their governing clique, the
Serbians now faced dangers which even their rugged qualities could not
contend against long. For now, while they were steeling themselves to
meet the impact of the blow from the Austro-Germans from the north,
the Bulgarian army, fully as strong as themselves, was gathering on
their right flank. In spite of the diplomatic protests of Ferdinand
and Radoslavov, the Serbians were not deceived.

The danger from the Bulgarian army meant more to the Serbians than the
mere doubling in number of their enemy's forces. It was the position
of the Bulgarians which made the situation especially precarious,
impossible.

A glance at the map will show that the main line of railroad, running
down from Belgrade to Saloniki by way of Nish, passes within a few
miles of the Bulgarian frontier, just opposite Sofia. Indeed, from
Klisura on the frontier the distant whistle of the locomotives and the
rattle of the trains across stretches of trestle work can be heard
plainly on still days. From Klisura on the frontier to the railroad is
all down hill. Farther south, at Kustendil, the danger was even
greater, though the distance from frontier to railroad somewhat more,
for at Kustendil was the terminus of a short railroad from the
Bulgarian capital. From this point on the frontier toward the railroad
at Kumanova the terrain was all in favor of the Bulgarians, for
Kustendil is at the top of a chain of mountains and the railroad runs
along the bottom of a valley, the famous Morava Valley.

This railroad, from Upper Serbia down to Saloniki, was the only line
of communication and transportation between the main Serbian armies
and the Allies. Cut this, and they would wither like a flower
separated from its stem.

So keenly did the Serbians realize their danger that they asked
permission of the Allies to attack Bulgaria before the Bulgarian army
was completely mobilized. They hoped thereby to disable Bulgaria with
one sharp blow while she was not yet prepared, then turn their whole
attention toward the enemy in the north. But to this plan the Allies
would not consent, still hoping that Ferdinand would reconsider his
resolution.

[Illustration: General Map of Balkan (Serbian) Operations.]

Just before the fourth invasion actually began, the Serbians held
their frontier along the Danube and the Save with three armies,
consisting of nearly eight divisions, or half of all their available
men. On the west the First Serbian Army, of three divisions, commanded
by General Mishitch, occupied the angle formed by the Save and the
Drina, with its headquarters at Shabatz, the scene of such bloody
fighting a year before. To the eastward came a force of a division and
a half under command of General Zivkovitch, known as the Army for the
Defense of Belgrade, which indicates its position. Between Belgrade
and the Rumanian frontier lay the Third Serbian Army, of three
divisions, with General Jourishitch at its head, protecting the mouth
of the Morava Valley.

Facing the Austrians over in the west, in the vicinity of Vichegrad,
was the army of Ushitze, of less than two divisions, under General
Goykovitch.

These were the forces, about two-thirds of the total Serbian army,
which faced the Austro-Germans. But another 100,000 had also to be
deployed along the Bulgarian frontier to protect the railroad as best
they could. Thus it was that wherever she faced her enemies, Serbia,
was hopelessly outnumbered.




CHAPTER XXXI

THE INVASION BEGINS


As already stated, the first of Mackensen's huge shells began bursting
over the Serbian defenses across the river on September 20, 1915.
While the wheels of diplomacy continued turning during the following
weeks, the roar of the big guns grew louder and more persistent and
swept up and down the long line. Then came several attempts on the
part of the Austro-Germans to cross the rivers; all these the Serbians
successfully repulsed, though they may have been mere feints, as a
boxer jabs at his opponent's jaw while he really aims for his wind.
There were seven of these attempts. In one, near Semendria, the
Serbians reported that a whole battalion of an enemy was destroyed.
Meanwhile German aeroplanes whirred back and forth over the Serbian
lines, reconnoitering their positions and sometimes dropping bombs.
One of them flew south as far as Nish, then turned eastward and
disappeared over the mountain ridges toward Bulgaria. And all this
while the frontier guards reported that the Bulgarians were massing
their troops day by day.

As already noted, the Serbian frontier in Macedonia was left
practically unguarded. Possibly the Serbians still hoped the Greeks
would hold to their treaty and join them from that direction. And,
indeed, the Greek army was being mobilized, frankly to meet the
Bulgarians. More encouraging still, the news came that France and
England, at the request of Venizelos, had agreed to send to Saloniki
150,000 men to make up for an equal number which, by the terms of the
Serbo-Greek treaty for mutual defense against Bulgaria, Serbia would
have provided had she been able to do so.

This force began landing in Saloniki on October 5, 1915, but on the
same day Venizelos was again compelled to resign by King Constantine,
who was determined to keep the Greek nation out of the war. This was a
sad blow to the hopes of the Serbians. Still, the British and French
troops continued landing, in spite of the "protest" from the Greek
Government.

Beginning on October 3, 1915, the fire of the Austro-German artillery
became doubly insistent, thundering up and down the whole front with
increasing vigor. Again the Teutons began poking their pontoons out
into the river, and again they were smashed by the Serbian guns. The
fighting waxed hottest at Ram, Dubrovitza, and Semendria, on the
Danube, and in and about Ciganlia Island (Island of the Gypsies), at
Obrenovatz, Shabatz, and Jarak on the Save, where it is joined by the
Drina. Ram and Semendria, both fortified places, guarded the mouth of
the Morava Valley, and these Gallwitz subjected to an especially heavy
fire. By October 5, 1915, the shelling became heaviest in this sector:
the enemy's guns and howitzers belched forth a steady hail of big
shells.

Belgrade, also, became the object of an increasingly tremendous effort
on the part of the Austro-German artillery. Here they had brought up
long-range guns, and with these inflicted heavy damage.

Nevertheless, the Serbians in Belgrade gave a good account of
themselves. There were stationed there the big naval guns, 4.7-inch
and 6-inch, sent into the country by Great Britain, France, and
Russia, and served by their expert gunners. For several days the
foreign gunners, under command of Rear Admiral Troubridge, swept the
broad surface of the Danube and the Save, sinking two of the enemy's
gunboats that happened to come within range.

On October 5, 1915, the German fire on Belgrade intensified and became
terrific. They no longer satisfied themselves with pouring their
deadly fire on the fortress of Belgrade and the neighboring positions
at Zamar, but they began a systematic bombardment of the city itself,
hurling vast quantities of inflammatory bombs, as though they meant to
burn down every building before attempting to take it. Into the
suburbs beyond, through which ran the highways leading into the
interior, they rained a curtain of fire which made flight for the
inhabitants almost impossible.

On October 6, 1915, the Austro-German forces finally managed to effect
a crossing which the Serbians were not able to repulse; at several
points they landed on the opposite bank, including Belgrade itself.
The first attempts had been made at Jarak, Podgorska Island, and
Zabrez, and had been driven back again and again, but this time the
enemy put such energy behind his efforts that eventually the Serbians
were no longer able to drive him back. Gypsy Island, too, a short
distance from Belgrade, was captured, whence a landing was made under
the Lower Fortress and on the Danube Quay in the city itself. In the
first attempt all the Austrians or Germans who landed under the Lower
Fortress were either killed or captured. Finally the invaders
established themselves permanently on the quay. During that day the
fighting was of a bloodier character than had as yet taken place.

Next day, October 7, 1915, the Austro-Germans pushed on to further
success; their big guns raked the river shore up and down and tore
down all defensive works, making them untenable for the defenders. And
on the day following, October 8, 1915, the Austro-Hungarian troops of
Kövess penetrated into the northern sections of the city, taking the
citadel by storm. At the same time a German contingent, attached to
Kövess's command, landed west of the city and took the heights in that
section, fighting its way to the Konak and finally to the Royal
Palace, in the center of the city, over which they hoisted the German
and Austrian flags. Though there was still much to do, Belgrade was
now practically in their hands.

Little by little the foreign naval guns in Belgrade had been silenced
by the big shells of the German howitzers. In the afternoon General
Zikovitch, seeing that the city was now lost and hoping to save it
from complete destruction, ordered his forces to retire on the
fortified positions lying behind and south of the capital. Several
detachments of the defenders, however, had already been cut off and
were obliged to remain. Some fought grimly to the bitter end,
inflicting heavy losses on the invaders; others were obliged to
surrender. In some of the streets the fighting took on a bloody,
hand-to-hand character, in which some of the civilians took part. All
through the night Mannlicher rifles sputtered back and forth,
interspersed here and there with the deeper detonation of the hand
bombs which the Serbians hurled in the skirmishes from street to
street and from terrace to terrace. When morning dawned the last of
the firing died down and the greater part of Belgrade was a vast field
of charred timbers and tumbled-down stones.

Belgrade was taken, as the official German and Austrian reports
announced joyously next day, but its taking had been at an enormous
cost and, aside from the political value of its possession, with very
little gain. The official list specified the war material captured as
only 9 naval guns, and 26 unmounted field pieces, the prisoners
amounting to 10 officers and 600 men, many of whom were wounded. The
Serbian Government had been established in Nish since the beginning of
the war.

What had happened at Belgrade was typical of the fighting at a number
of other points along the banks of the three rivers. On the same day
that Belgrade was taken the Austro-Germans crossed the Danube between
Gradishte and Semendria, near the village of Zatagna and the small
fort called Kosolatz. Ram, too, after having been heavily bombarded,
was taken. Then, from these points they tried to blast their way
through farther south, away from the river into the interior, but the
Serbians held them back from the neighboring heights.

In the west, on the Save, toward the mouth of the Drina, the invaders
were not so successful. In this area were some of the best of the
Serbian soldiers, among them the Shumadia Division, which especially
distinguished itself during all the later fighting. Here Marshal
Mishitch, who had led his men so ably during the third invasion ten
months previously, was in command. He also had charge of the defenses
along the lower Drina, and opposite Badovintse he drove back the
Austrians with bloody slaughter.

Between Obrenovatz and Kratinska, on the Save, the Austro-Germans had
delivered heavy attacks for three nights successively, but were
effectively checked. The operations were directed specially against
Zabrez. On October 10, 1915, this Serbian position was still holding
out. In the afternoon of that date the Austrians bombarded heavily,
using great quantities of asphyxiating bombs. Then they charged in
solid masses, believing that the gases had thrown the Serbians into
disorder. The latter, however, were provided with masks, and when the
enemy charged they sprang from their trenches and met them on the open
ground in hand-to-hand bayonet fighting, driving them back in panic.

Again the Austrians showered gas shells on the Serbians; then, toward
dusk, came on again, but the Serbians once more broke through the
Austrian ranks and captured many prisoners.

[Illustration: The Beginning of the German-Austro-Bulgar Campaign
against Serbia.]

But in spite of these local successes by the Serbians, the fighting
was beginning to go against them; the invaders had crossed the
frontier and could no longer be dislodged. On October 11, 1915, the
official German dispatches were able to announce that Mackensen's
forces were in possession of the Serbian banks of the Danube and the
Save between Gradishte and Shabatz, a stretch of over a hundred miles.
On the Drina too, the Austrians had been able to cross over in
several places. To all these points they hurried large bodies of
reserves to push their advantages and so continue a vigorous offensive
east, south, and west of Belgrade, in a wide, sweeping movement along
the entire front.

The main effort was made in the east, to secure possession of the
Morava Valley and its railroad. Near Semendria, Gallwitz's right wing
was in touch with Kövess's left. The plan was that they should advance
up the Morava together, each covering one side of the valley. But it
was first necessary to reduce the Serbian forts at Semendria and
Pojarevatz.

It was now two weeks since the heavy artillery had begun playing on
Semendria. By October 11, 1915, the invaders had succeeded in taking
Semendria, the garrison retiring to Pojarevatz. Here a very severe
battle was fought, but finally the Serbians were forced back, though
not without inflicting the heaviest losses that the enemy had as yet
suffered. After two days the fort was taken and the Serbians retired
to the hills beyond. Thus the invaders were now ready to begin their
advance down the Morava Valley.

But just then there came a pause in the fighting. The Serbians
observed that Gallwitz waited. What he waited for was not immediately
obvious to them. Within a few days they were to know.




CHAPTER XXXII

BULGARIA ENTERS THE WAR


The Bulgarian Government suddenly threw aside all dissimulation and
declared war on Serbia, on the pretext that the Serbians had crossed
the frontier and attacked Bulgarian troops. On October 11, 1915, the
Bulgarian army began operations by attacking the Serbians at
Kadibogas, northwest of Nish, the attack gradually extending up and
down the frontier. This was the fatal blow. To oppose the 300,000 men
that the Bulgarians could easily put into this field, the Serbians had
not over a third as many.

Bulgaria had two large armies against the Serbian frontier. The First
Army, under General Boyadjieff, was fully 200,000 strong and was
concentrated in the north from Vidin to Zaribrod, threatening the
Timok Valley and that part of the Belgrade-Sofia railroad running from
Pirot to Nish.

The Second Army, under the command of General Todoroff, was only half
as large, and directed itself toward Macedonia and especially toward
Uskub, both on account of the strategic importance of that place as a
railroad center and as the best point from which a wedge might be
driven into the side of Serbia, separating the north from the south.
The headquarters of this second force was in Kustendil, its left wing
extending down to Strumitza in Macedonia.

On this eastern front, to oppose the Bulgarians, the Serbian forces
were in three groups. In the north, its left flank touching the forces
operating against the Austro-Germans, lay the Timok group, commanded
by General Zivkovitch, whose headquarters were in Zaichar. South of
this force came the second group--territorial troops--numbering three
divisions of infantry and one of cavalry, altogether about 80,000 men,
and commanded by Marshal Stepanovitch. It was based on Pirot and was
especially charged with the defense of the railroad. Lower down, with
headquarters in Vranya, was the detachment of the Southern Morava.
Farther down in Macedonia, concentrated around Uskub, Veles, and
stretched down along the Vardar toward the Greek frontier at Doiran,
were another 25,000 men under the command of General Bojovitch.

[Illustration: Under fire from the Serbian forces, General Mackensen's
engineers constructed this great bridge across the Danube, and his
army crossed for the invasion of Serbia.]

As a slight offset to the disheartening news that the Bulgarians had
at last definitely joined hands with the Teutonic forces, came the
tidings that France and England had declared war on Bulgaria and that
their forces, which had been landing in Saloniki, were already
advancing up the Vardar with the intention of making a junction with
the southern Serbian forces. Already, on that same day, October 15,
1915, the allied vanguard had advanced as far as Valandova and was
there attacked by the Bulgarians, the latter being beaten back and
heavily defeated. These were the French troops, under command of
General Sarrail; having thrown back the Bulgarians he worked his way
northward along the railroad until he reached Krivolak and Gradsko, a
few miles below Veles. But transporting troops from France and England
was a slow business, and General Sarrail had not then, nor had he
later, enough forces to advance north any farther. Meanwhile the
Bulgarians in the north, under Boyadjieff, began operations against
the Serbians.

The country in this section is extremely rough, being all rocky ridges
and deep ravines, with roads little better than mountain trails.
Boyadjieff succeeded at once in crossing the Lower Timok, then divided
his force into two main divisions. One of these he advanced against
Pirot, the other against Zaichar and Kniashevatz. But now the Serbians
began a strong resistance.

On October 15, 1915, the Bulgarians began three strong assaults, east
and southeast of Zaichar, all of which the Serbians repulsed
successfully. East of Kniashevatz another series of bitterly contested
encounters took place, neither side making any decided gains. On the
following day the fighting extended to Svinski Vis. By this time the
Serbians east of Kniashevatz began giving way slowly and the
Bulgarians pushed forward and on October 19, 1915, they arrived before
Negotin. Toward Pirot they also succeeded in making some advance.

For several days the two fighting lines of men swayed back and forth.
Here artillery played not so important a part. Both Bulgars and Serbs,
primitive, rugged fighters, threw military science to the winds and
plunged into the battle face to face and breast to breast, thrusting
each other with cold steel. In some of the struggles the men lost
their guns; they picked up the bowlders that lay about them thickly
and hurled them at their enemies or they gripped each other with their
hands and fought as animals fight. Quarter was neither asked nor
given.

Witnesses state that in neither of the two Balkan wars was there such
ferocious fighting, such awful slaughter, as during the encounters
between the Serbians and Bulgarians along this section of the
frontier. Both sides lost heavily; whole companies and even battalions
were hemmed in against the rock walls, then exterminated to the last
man.

But finally numbers began to show the advantage, and the Serbians were
obliged to retire from ridge to ridge. Village after village was taken
and burned.

In Macedonia, Todoroff, though his force was much smaller, was having
comparatively easy work. A large part of the vital railroad line
passed through this section and it was Todoroff's first aim to throw
himself astride of it, thus effectually breaking off communication
between the vanguard of the French army and the Serbians. It was this
portion of the country that the Greeks would have defended, had they
joined the Allies.

The first thing that Todoroff did was to detach a strong force from
his main body, with which he struck at the railroad between Vranya and
Zibeftcha and succeeded in cutting it. The detachment of the Southern
Morava was driven back at the first encounter and on October 17, 1915,
the Bulgarians entered Vranya. On the same day the main body of the
Bulgarians advanced down the slopes from Kustendil and took Egri
Palanka, on the road toward Kumanova and Uskub. Farther south they
penetrated the Valley of the Bregalnitza, the scene of the Bulgarian
defeat in the Second Balkan War, where they captured the important
strategic point, Sultan Tepe, and the town of Katshana, taking twelve
field pieces. Passing rapidly on through Ishtip, they occupied that
part of Veles lying east of the Vardar River, where, on October 20,
1915, they again cut the railroad line and so made any further advance
on the part of the French almost impossible. The next day the
Bulgarians captured Kumanova and then, on the day following, drove the
Serbians on through Uskub. The Serbians retired fighting to Katshanik
Pass, north of Uskub, where they made a stand that became one of the
notable achievements, on their part, of the whole campaign. For by the
defense of this pass they made the Bulgarian effort to cut Serbia in
two for some time fruitless.




CHAPTER XXXIII

THE TEUTONIC INVASION ROLLS ON


Meanwhile, Bulgaria having plunged into the fighting, the Teutonic
allies in the north resumed their efforts to advance southward. But
for some time they had all they could do to maintain themselves on the
banks of the rivers. Before them rose the rock-ribbed hills skirting
the mountains of the interior, and along these hills the Serbians had,
during the previous ten months, built up line after line of strong
intrenchments, one behind the other. To carry one line was only to
gain a few hundred yards of territory.

Just as soon as Kövess felt his hold on Belgrade secure, he began an
attack on the heights to the south. After three days of intense
bombardment he succeeded in taking Mount Avala, an eminence some 1,600
feet in height and ten miles from the city. On the same day, October
18, 1915, Obrenovatz fell into his hands, and Shabatz three days
later. However, these two places were still only on the banks of the
river.

The chief efforts of the invaders, however, were directed toward
making an advance down the Morava Valley. Their first assault was made
against the Serbian positions in the mountainous country of the
Podunavlie. Gallwitz here had an exceedingly difficult task, for the
ground rose in rocky, steplike formation, offering all the advantages
to the defenders. But the bombardment from the heavy artillery had its
effect and slowly the Germans advanced. By October 23, 1915, they had
reached the southern bank of the Jesenitza, not far from Palanka and
had passed Rakinatz on the road to Petrovatz on the Mlava.

During this same period the German left wing, having smashed Tekia
with gunfire, crossed the Danube near Orsova and succeeded in taking
the heights overlooking the river. On the extreme western front the
Austrians crossed the Drina at Vishegrad. Thus all the rivers forming
the frontiers had passed completely into the hands of the invaders.
But it had been a costly gain. By this time the Austro-German forces
had lost very heavily. The Serbians also had had heavy losses, but not
half so many as the enemy.

It was the policy of General Putnik, the Serbian Chief of Staff, to
prolong the fighting as much as possible, for during this time the
transports of the Allies were disembarking troops in Saloniki, at the
rate of 5,000 men a day, and there was hope that eventually they would
be able to advance northward, and at least save the Serbians from the
Bulgarians. This same hope had stiffened the resistance of the
soldiers in every skirmish. Then came word that the Russians would
relieve the pressure by attacking the Bulgarians, either through
Rumania, or by landing troops in either Bourgas or Varna. And once
indeed the Russian ships did bombard Varna, but without any attempt at
disembarking troops.

As the days passed and no help from outside came, the belief began
gradually to dawn on the Serbian people that they were doomed as a
nation. This feeling first manifested itself in the flight of the
civil population. At first the noncombatants had merely retired with
the fighting line. The first three invasions had shown that the
Austrians did not always refrain from committing atrocities,
especially when their armies had suffered unusually. Nor was there any
reason to suppose that the Germans were any kindlier to civilians.
Thus it was that hardly any of the civil population remained behind in
conquered territory.

Then, gradually, came the conviction that Serbian soldiers alone must
face the enemy, and even the most patriotic realized what a hopeless
fight it was. The whole population began moving southward; along every
available road trailed long lines of slowly moving ox carts, loaded
with the few movable belongings of their peasant owners. South
continued the exodus and then--the Bulgarians blocked the way. The
roads to Greece were closed. There remained nothing for them to do but
to turn toward the awful mountain wilderness intervening between them
and the Adriatic sea coast, infested by fierce bands of Albanian
brigands and tribesmen.

The weather was bad; rain fell heavily and incessantly, the roads were
deep in mud and the plight of these people, most of them old men and
women and children, became intensely miserable.

The Austro-German lines in the north continued their slow but
persistent southward advance; the invasion rolled on, the Serbians
retiring before them step by step. During the last week of the month
Gallwitz came to the heights east of Banitzina, south of Jesenitza,
and began storming them. Then followed another spurt of severe
fighting and Livaditza and Zabari, on the Morava River, fell into
their hands, after which they occupied the region south of Petrovatz.
By the 28th they had gained Svilajnatz, beating down the Serbian
resistance by sheer weight of men and guns, and by the last day of the
month they were within a day's march of Kragujevatz, in which was
located Serbia's chief arsenal. Situated on the Lepenitza, a branch of
the Morava, it lay about half way between Belgrade and Nish, on a
branch line of the main railroad. It was a point well worth defending,
and the Serbians did defend it stubbornly, but on November 1, 1915,
they were compelled to evacuate it, after first destroying the arsenal
and all the materials it contained.

It was here that the Shumadia Division especially distinguished
itself. The regiments of that unit had been recruited in this section;
it was literally defending its native soil. During the first part of
the fighting it had been intrenched in the hills to the north of the
town. The day was wet and dense mists rolled through the mountain
passes down over the hills. The Germans had effectually shelled the
positions of the Shumadians and were under the impression that they
had retired, wherefore they advanced upward to occupy the deserted
trenches.

And then, suddenly, wild yells and shouts burst out from the rolling
mist and the Shumadians fell upon the invaders with set bayonets. The
latter, who had been growing accustomed to the purely defensive
tactics of their enemy, were completely taken by surprise and thrown
into disorder.

The first line of the Teutons wavered, then broke and scattered.
Coming up against reenforcements behind, they re-formed and advanced
again. And again the Shumadians burst down on them and engaged them
hand to hand. Fighting like savages, they drove the invaders before
them for a considerable distance, taking over 3,000 prisoners and
several guns. When finally they retired just as the main body of the
advancing foe was coming up, they left behind them hundreds of enemy
dead, the fallen literally covering the ground in heaps.

The mixed forces of Kövess, keeping in touch with Gallwitz's right
wing, had been advancing more or less in line with the Germans,
marching along the railroad from Belgrade and Obrenovatz toward the
Western Morava. South of Belgrade the Serbians had put up a stout
resistance at Kosmai, but were finally dislodged by the heavy
artillery fire. On October 25, 1915, Kövess arrived at Ratcha, south
of Palanka, on the right side of the Morava. After a hard fought
battle at Gorni Milanovatz, he reached Cacak on November 1, 1915, a
few miles west of Kragujevatz. Here it was that he struck the Western
Morava and the railroad passing along it eastward from Ushitze to its
junction with the main line. Farther to the westward his cavalry, on
October 26, 1915, had occupied Valievo on the Upper Kolubara and one
of his divisions had crossed the Maljen Mountains, where the Austrians
had been so humiliatingly defeated the year before. Farther west, but
more to the south, the Austrians, who had pushed on from Vishegrad,
arrived in Ushitze on November 2, 1915, and presently effected a
junction with the main body.

Meanwhile, a day or two before the end of the month, an incident up in
the northeast foreshadowed the attainment of the main objective of the
Austro-German forces. The Serbians had, naturally, withdrawn from this
section and now a German cavalry patrol, scouting in advance of its
own lines, met with a body of Bulgarian scouts. The Bulgarian and the
Teutonic forces had come in contact with each other. But the chief
significance of this fact was that now the road was open for
communication between Germany and Turkey. Even if the railroad running
from Belgrade to Constantinople, by way of Sofia, should be
temporarily cut, or should not be captured throughout its entire
length for some time, shipments of war material could already be made
to Turkey by way of the Danube down to Rustchuk in northern Bulgaria
and thence by railroad. Thus the Turks at Gallipoli, who had been
running short of ammunition, could now be relieved.

This opening of communication with Turkey was made much of in the
German official reports and some of the newspapers began referring to
Mackensen's army as "the army of Egypt."

On the first day of November, 1915, Mackensen could really say that he
had conquered all of northern Serbia. But the fact remained that the
Serbian army was still in the field; not even a part of it had as yet
been captured or annihilated. And it is a military axiom that no
matter how far an army may retreat and no matter how much territory
may have been conquered, no battle is decisive until the enemy has
been destroyed, either entirely or in large part. The Germans were to
be reminded of this fact more than once on the Russian front.

Up till this time Boyadjieff, at the head of his Bulgarian army, was
attacking the Serbians from two directions: along the Timok against
Kniashevatz, Zaichar, and Negotin, and along the Nishava against
Pirot. Both movements were directed ultimately toward Nish, but the
more northerly had also the purpose of effecting a junction with the
left wing of the Germans under Gallwitz, which was advancing from
Tekia, in the northeast corner of Serbia. Negotin and Prahovo, the
latter a port on the Danube, had been taken on October 25, 1915. Lower
down, the Bulgarians, who were in overwhelming strength, occupied both
Zaichar and Kniashevatz on the 28th. Meanwhile, the Serbians were also
compelled to abandon the commanding heights of Drenova Glava, fifteen
miles northwest of Pirot, and on the 28th Pirot fell, though not
without heavy fighting. With Pirot on the south and Kniashevatz on the
north in the hands of the Bulgarians, the situation of Nish became
very precarious. The Serbian Government was now shifted to Kralievo.

Down in Macedonia the Second Bulgarian Army, under Todoroff, seemed to
have come to an end of its initial success. After its occupation of
Uskub it had advanced to Katshanik Pass, which was occupied by the
Serbians under General Bojovitch. Todoroff at once began a violent
attack and by October 28, 1915, part of the defile seemed to have been
cleared of the Serbians. But presently the Serbians were reenforced
by two regiments of the Morava Division and two of the Drina Division,
whereupon Bojovitch suddenly turned and once more possessed himself of
the pass.

Again and again the Bulgarians attacked, determined to take the pass,
but as often as they hurled themselves up the defile, just so often
the Serbians drove them back with fire and bayonet.

During this same period another Serbian force under Colonel Vassitch
was fighting farther south. On October 22, 1915, he succeeded in
recapturing Veles, which, it will be remembered, Todoroff had taken in
his rapid advance during the first few days of his fighting. Here it
was that the Serbians expected to make a juncture with the French
forces under Sarrail, and for several days they could even hear the
thunder of the French guns repelling a Bulgarian attack, so close
together were they.

For a whole week Vassitch held Veles against the overwhelming attacks
of the Bulgarians; then, finally, on the 29th, he was compelled to
retire to the Babuna Pass, the narrow defile also known as the Iron
Gate, through which passed the highway from Veles to Monastir, by way
of Prilep. By the first of November, 1915, the Serbians were still
holding this pass, which was all that prevented the Bulgarians from
driving in the wedge that was to separate Upper Serbia from Macedonia.

While it was true that no important part of the Serbian army had as
yet been eliminated from the field; that it was, as a whole, still
intact, yet it was now evident that the little nation had come very
near to the end of her resistance. By this time it was quite obvious
that no real help could be expected from the Allies. Great Britain had
offered the island of Cyprus to the Greeks, if they would stand by
their agreement by joining the Serbians, against the Bulgarians, at
least. But even that tempting offer would not induce them to risk
themselves in a fight whose outcome seemed so doubtful. On October 20,
1915, Italy had given her moral support by declaring war against
Bulgaria, but for the time being she offered nothing more material. On
October 21, 1915, British and French ships bombarded the Bulgarian
port of Dedeagatch, on the Gulf of Enos, and also a junction of the
railroad connecting Saloniki with Constantinople, but this had no
material result in deterring the Bulgarians from pressing their
campaign against the Serbians in Macedonia. On October 28, 1915,
Russian ships bombarded Varna, on the Black Sea coast of Bulgaria.
This was done, not so much for any material damage that could be done
to Bulgaria, but for the moral effect it might have on the population,
which was supposed to have very deep feelings of regard for Russia,
because she had freed them from the Turks in 1878. But the Bulgarian
troops previously stationed at this point had been replaced by Turkish
forces, so that it is probable that the Bulgarian population was not
much affected.

On land, the French troops under Sarrail had advanced farthest north;
on October 23, 1915, they defeated the Bulgarians severely at Rabrova
and pushed on to Krivolak, where they again engaged the Bulgarians on
the 30th and repulsed their attack. By November 2, 1915, the French
were at Gradsko, where the Tcherna joins the Vardar River, hoping to
get in touch with the Serbians who were defending the Babuna Pass and
whose guns they could hear pounding over the ten miles of intervening
mountain ridges. The British bore little of this fighting, having made
their advance over toward Lake Doiran.

But though the French had arrived within hearing of the Serbian guns,
they lacked the numbers that would give them the strength to push
farther. The French, indeed, had done well in their efforts to support
the Serbians in their distress. It was Great Britain that had not
lived up to her promise of affording "our Allies all the material
assistance in our power." So obviously had the British military
authorities failed that much public sentiment in Great Britain was
worked up against them, which became all the more acute when a
telegram from M. Pachitch, the Serbian premier, was published, in
which he said: "Serbia is making superhuman efforts to defend her
existence, in response to the advice and desire of her great ally. For
this she is condemned to death.... In spite of the heroism of our
soldiers, our resistance cannot be maintained indefinitely. We beg
you to do all you can to insure your troops reaching us that they may
help our army...."

On the same day this was published in the London papers, there was
also printed a speech made by Lord Lansdowne in the House of Lords, in
which he stated that the British had landed in Saloniki a force of
only 13,000 men.

In France the sentiment in favor of assisting the Serbians was so
strong that the Cabinet, which did not approve of a Balkan campaign,
was forced to resign. The French president thereupon found a new prime
minister in M. Briand, the ex-Socialist, who once before had been
premier, and, associating with himself M. Viviani and other
ex-ministers, he formed a Cabinet which was prepared to push the
campaign in aid of Serbia to the fullest extent. On the following day,
October 29, 1915, General Joffre went to London to consult with the
British Government and to persuade them to take more energetic
measures with regard to transporting troops to Saloniki. Apparently
his mission was successful, for after that large forces were sent to
the Near East, but so far as any effectual help to Serbia was
concerned, it was now too late.

At about this time Greece was showing a decided change of attitude.
Evidently this change was not a little due to the success of the
Austro-Germans and the Bulgarians in the north, and the nearer they
came to her own frontier, the less cordial became Greece to the
Allies. Every obstacle, short of armed interference, was put in the
way of transportation of troops and supplies to the front up in
Macedonia. This attitude was to continue until the Serbians were
finally swept out of their native land and the question came up of
retiring the allied troops back to Saloniki, across Greek territory,
when the British and French took very severe measures against the
Greek authorities.

Meanwhile, the invasion of Serbia was rolling onward. Having taken
Kragujevatz, where they began restoring the arsenal to working order
with feverish haste, the Austro-Germans crossed the Cacak-Kragujevatz
road and continued onward. Kövess advanced over the Posetza and the
Germans entered Jagodina on November 3, 1915.

By this time the Serbian headquarters at Kralievo was seriously
threatened; in fact, the Serbian Government was able to withdraw just
in time to prevent capture and establish itself in Rashka. On came the
enemy, along both banks of the Western Morava. In the streets of
Kralievo there was fierce fighting, at times hand-to-hand, between the
defenders and the Brandenburg troops of the invaders, but finally, on
November 5, 1915, the town was taken.

Here the invaders made their first large capture of war material,
which included 130 guns, though most of them were said to be of an
obsolete pattern, the others being without breech-blocks. Within
forty-eight hours the Germans had reached Krushevatz, where 3,000
Serbian soldiers were captured, not counting 1,500 wounded lying in
the hospital.

The whole Western Morava was now in the hands of the invaders. To the
eastward Gallwitz pressed on until he came to the hills south of
Lugotzni, where he was held up for a short space by the Serbian rear
guards. Finally, the heights were taken by storm. On November 4, 1915,
Parachin on the railroad was taken; from this point a branch line runs
back to Zaichar, already in possession of the Bulgarians, so that now
the two armies, German and Bulgarian, were almost in touch with each
other. And next day, in fact, their lines joined up at Krivivir, which
was taken that night by an assault under cover of darkness. Their
lines were now only thirty miles from Nish.

During this time other large bodies of Bulgarians under Boyadjieff
were also advancing on Nish; one from Pirot, in a southerly direction,
and another along the road from Kniashevatz, marching north. They were
now closing in on that city in overwhelming strength.




CHAPTER XXXIV

THE FALL OF NISH--DEFENSE OF BABUNA PASS


At a small village called Svrlig, six miles outside the city, the
Serbians began a fight which presently assumed the character of some
of the bloody battles they had fought earlier in the campaign. Again
and again the Bulgarian attacks were hurled back; thus the battle
lasted for three days, from November 2 to 5, 1915. The Serbians
retired only when the Bulgarians began bringing up their big guns, and
the shells were already dropping into Nish. On November 5, 1915, the
Bulgarians entered the city and took possession, where even yet the
British and French flags were flying, raised by the Serbians when they
still thought that only a few days intervened until they would be
welcoming the allied troops. A hundred guns were taken with Nish,
though the Serbians claimed that they were old and obsolete.

The fall of Nish, from a political point of view, at least, was the
worst blow that the Serbians had suffered since the capture of
Belgrade. The German and Austrian papers made the most of it, and
indeed all Europe now realized that the last days of the Serbian
resistance were at hand.

In Macedonia the Bulgarians under Todoroff were not having an easy
success. They were being held up still at Katshanik Pass, where the
Serbians under Colonel Bojovitch were daily beating back the Bulgarian
assaults and thus keeping open the retreat of the main Serbian army.
Down in the Babuna Pass the Serbians were making a similar stubborn
defense, hoping against hope that the French would come to their
relief. And possibly, had it not been for the defeats that the
Bulgarians were receiving from the French at Strumitza, they would
have been able to take the pass long before. For in that direction
Todoroff had been suffering great loss; so severely was he pressed
that he was, for the time being, unable to press his advance into the
heart of Macedonia. To this extent, at least, the Allies, and
especially the French, did help the Serbians.

The Bulgarians were in exactly the same position, and trying to
accomplish exactly the same thing, as in the Second Balkan War. At
that time they were endeavoring to drive a wedge in between the
Serbians and the Greeks. Now the situation was the same, except that
the French were in the place of the Greeks.

From Katshanik to Krivolak the railroad was in Bulgarian hands. From
Krivolak south to Doiran it was in the hands of the Allies, though
parts of it were at times under the fire of the Bulgarian artillery.
South of Katshanik the Bulgarians had crossed the road and had pushed
westward until they were held up at the Babuna Pass. Should the pass
be forced the Serbian line was in immediate danger of being flanked
and the French, too, would be in a similar danger, for by striking
south the Bulgarians could make a move around toward the French rear.
Hence the almost superhuman efforts both Serbians and French were
making to close this gap.

The stand that the Serbians made in Babuna Pass was one of those feats
which will remain inscribed on the pages of history through the ages
and will excite the admiration of all people, regardless of how their
sympathies may lie toward the main issues of the war. During the first
week of November Colonel Vassitch had only 5,000 men with which to
dispute the right of way against 20,000 Bulgarians. And not only had
the Bulgarians a great advantage in the matter of numbers, but they
were well supplied with big guns. Day after day and night after night,
the little force of Serbians crouched among the deep shadows of the
defile, sometimes without food, always under a heavy fire, now and
again making the rock cliffs about them echo with bursts of their
plaintive, national folk songs. After November 4, 1915, the Bulgarian
attacks became more persistent, and their infantry would hurl itself
up into the pass; then the Serbians would spring up from behind rocks
and ledges and throw themselves at their hated kinsmen with naked
bayonets, shouting such words in their common language as send the
flush of rage burning through the cheeks of men and make things red
before their eyes. Again and again were these sanguinary hand-to-hand
struggles enacted under the towering rock walls of those forbidding
mountains, and again and again the Bulgarians were thrown back.
Meanwhile, the French, only ten miles away, were within sound of the
firing.

As a matter of fact, General Sarrail had already done wonders,
considering the shortness of the time he had had and the small forces
and few facilities at his disposal. It seemed, to those at a distance,
such a small gap to fill. And indeed, so nearly did Sarrail effect the
junction that nothing but the absence of reenforcements at a critical
moment caused him to fail.

As soon as he had landed at Saloniki he had sent every soldier under
his command along the railroad up the valley of Vardar, toward Veles.
Unfortunately, transportation facilities were poor; the road was only
single track; curving and twisting in and out among the rising
foothills and mountain spurs.

His first fighting had been at Strumitza station, where he defeated
the Bulgarians and so assured himself of possession of Demir Kapu
defile, a cleft in the mountains ten miles in length and from which,
had they held it, the Bulgarians could easily, with a comparatively
small force, have prevented any further advance. Having secured this
pass, Sarrail pushed through it to Krivolak, which was reached on
October 19, 1915. But here he was compelled to make a halt, to fortify
this advanced position and to await further reenforcements.

When news of the proximity of the French advance reached Vassitch, he
redoubled his efforts, and on October 22, 1915, he thrust his little
army forward and succeeded in recapturing Veles. This town lay along
the railroad, about thirty-five miles northwest of Krivolak.

Three miles north of Krivolak, on the road to Ishtip, rises a steep
and forbidding height, called Kara Hodjali (the Black Priest), which
the French were fortunate enough to take before the Bulgarians came up
in force. It was this height which enabled them, when the Bulgarians
did swarm down on them, some days later, to hold their position. From
October 30, 1915, until November 5, 1915, the fighting here was
furious, but finally the Bulgarians were driven back. Meanwhile,
however, the advance had been delayed and Vassitch, after holding
Veles a week, was forced to retire to Babuna Pass again.

From Krivolak to the pass was twenty-five miles, due east. For fifteen
miles the road lay across a rolling plain, to the River Tserna, as the
Macedonians and Serbians called it, or Tcherna, meaning "Black," in
Bulgarian. Beyond that rose steep and difficult mountain ridges, which
the Bulgarians had occupied and fortified. Yet Sarrail determined to
make an effort to force his way across.

By this time reenforcements had arrived from Saloniki, so he began
moving across the plain through Negotin and Kavadar to the Tcherna.
This stream, though narrow, was deep and unfordable. It could be
crossed only in one place, by a small plank bridge, at Vozartzi.

On November 5, 1915, the French troops began crossing this bridge and
scaling the heights before them, some of whose peaks towered fully a
thousand feet above the river. And here it was that they first heard
the booming of the Serbian guns, on the other side of the ridge.

Sarrail now advanced his men northward, along the west bank of the
Tcherna, and next day he delivered an assault on the Mount of the
Archangel, ten miles below Vozartzi. Here was the center of the
Bulgarian positions, and here their lines must be pierced, if Babuna
Pass was to be reached.

But not only was this position well fortified, but the Bulgarians were
in superior force to the French. Moreover, as soon as Todoroff heard
of what was going on, he hurried reenforcements to the Bulgarians on
Mount Archangel. And this Sarrail knew; yet, without hesitation, he
began the assault.

At the first attack the Bulgarian advance lines were driven out of the
villages at the base of the mountain. The French continued their
advance, and on November 10, 1915, they began a circling movement
which resulted in the Bulgarians being squeezed out of Sirkovo, a
village some distance up the mountain.

But by this time the Bulgarian reenforcements were beginning to
arrive, and by the end of the second week of the month they began to
take the offensive. They now had 60,000 men; against this force it was
obviously impossible for the French to make any further headway.

The Bulgarian commander now showed that it was his intention to circle
about the French, cut off their retreat by destroying the wooden
bridge over the Tcherna in their rear, then pin them up against the
mountain and pound them until they surrendered, all of which might
have been accomplished by a more skillful general.

For three days a violent battle raged, in which the fate of the French
army more than once hung in the balance, but superior military skill
counted in the end. Possibly, too, the hearts of the Bulgarian
soldiers were not in this fight, for the Bulgarian people have an
almost reverential respect for the French. At any rate, they did not
show here the same qualities that so distinguished them in the war
against the Turks. At the end of the third day their lines began
wavering, then broke. So completely were they routed that the French
were compelled to bury nearly 4,000 of the dead they left behind. So
close had the fighting been that at times the Bulgarian infantry
charged the French positions to within a dozen yards, but in the last
moment lacked the dash to carry them through the machine-gun fire and
into the French ranks. At such moments the French would countercharge,
whereupon the Bulgarians would turn and flee. Had the French been only
a few thousand men stronger, they could have followed up their
advantage, completely routed the Bulgarians, pushed their way across
the mountains to Babuna Pass and so relieved the Serbians, as well as
closing the gap through which the Bulgarians were yet to penetrate
into Macedonia.

The French completed their victory on November 14, 1915; until the
next day the Serbians held out, hearing the French guns, now loud and
clear, then receding, hoping every hour to see them come streaming
over the mountains to their aid. But the French could not do the
impossible. The Bulgarians had been thrown back, but not crushed.
Sarrail dared not leave that slender crossing over the Tcherna too far
behind.

On November 16, 1915, the Serbians finally fell back from the pass on
Prilep. The French, however, not knowing of the Serbian retirement at
the time, continued to hold their advanced position at Mount Archangel
until November 20, 1915, when the Bulgarians returned to give them
fresh battle. And again the French were able to repulse their attacks,
but further advance was now out of the question.

The situation of the Serbian armies up in the north was now truly
desperate. The combined Austro-German and Bulgarian lines, beginning
at Vishegrad, north of Montenegro, swept in a straight line across the
heart of Serbia to Nish, where it curved downward to Vranya, then
swept into Veles and down to where the French army prevented it from
reaching the Greek frontier. It was, in fact, like a great dragnet,
which had only to be contracted to sweep the Serbians inward, over
against the awful defiles of the Montenegrin and Albanian Mountains, a
country through which no organized army could pass in a body, and
through which only the strongest of the noncombatants could hope to
escape alive. And for a time it seemed as though the French would
prick a hole through this net, through which, by rending it into a
wide gap, the Serbians could have been saved. But with the retirement
of Colonel Vassitch from Babuna Pass that last chance was gone; Serbia
was left to her fate.

Meanwhile the pressure from the north continued irresistibly; steadily
the Serbian armies were being pushed back against the mountain ranges,
in comparison to which their own mountains were mere hills. And while
the Serbians were waxing weaker every day, their enemies were growing
stronger, not only because their long line was contracting, but
because now they were being constantly reenforced. Also, with the
cutting of the railroad, all means of supply were gone; the Serbians
must now continue the fight with their own resources. They were now
becoming woefully short, not only of ammunition, but of food as well.
Yet they continued the struggle, retreating before the enemy facing
them, step by step backward, taking advantage of every little natural
position to cause the invaders as much loss as possible.

During the two weeks following the fall of Nish the three commanders
of the invading armies began, and continued, a great converging
movement on the Kossovo Plain, their object being to completely
encircle the main Serbian armies. Kövess was advancing his forces
toward Mitrovitza on the north side of the plain from Kralievo up the
valley of the Ibar, branching out of the Western Morava. In the hills
north of Ivanitza the Serbian rear guards made a stubborn attempt to
hold him back, but finally they were dislodged and the Austrians
occupied Ivanitza on November 9, 1915. Four days later, after driving
the Serbians from their intrenchments in the Stolovi ranges, he
reached Rashka, which had been the seat of the Serbian Government
after its flight from Kralievo and which was situated on the Ibar,
some distance along the road to Mitrovitza and only a few miles from
Novi Bazar. This place he took on November 20, 1915, and with it a
small arsenal, in which were fifty large mortars and eight guns, which
even the German reports described as of "somewhat ancient pattern."

To the eastward the Austrians had taken possession of Sienitza and
Novi Varosh, up toward the Montenegrin frontier. Being expelled from
Zhochanitza, the Serbians retired to Mitrovitza. By November 22, 1915,
the Austrian lines had followed to within five miles of that point.

Gallwitz and his Germans, in the meanwhile, operating on the left
flank of the Austrians, was pushing southward, his object being to
take Pristina, on the east side of the Kossovo Plain and about twenty
miles southeast of Mitrovitza. But this was a task that could not be
accomplished without much difficulty, for before him towered the
backbone of Serbia's main mountain ridges, each ravine and each ledge
sheltering strong Serbian forces.

As usual, however, the big guns cleared the way before Gallwitz,
though at Jastrebatz the Serbians made him pay a heavy price in the
losses he suffered. On this front the Bulgars were now coming close
enough to the Germans to support them; against the two the Serbians
had not the slightest chance.

By November 8, 1915, Gallwitz was starting out from Krushevatz, after
which he followed the banks of a small branch of the Western Morava in
a southwesterly direction, toward Brus, with one part of his force,
another being sent due south across a range of high hills toward
Kurshumlia. He soon reached Ribari and Ribarska Bania, where the
retreating Serbians gave him what he himself described in his official
report as "very stiff fighting." Next he stormed the pass through the
mountains and thus gained an entrance to the valley of the Toplitza,
through which flows a river westward into the Morava, the main stream
by that name, though in this district it is known as the Southern
Morava.

A week's hard fighting and marching followed before Kurshumlia could
be taken, which the Serbians evacuated without resistance, though not
before they had stripped it of everything that might be of value to
the enemy. Here was located a Serbian hospital, full of wounded
soldiers, all of whom fell into the hands of the Germans.

Moving on from this town, which lay about halfway between Krushevatz
and Pristina, the Germans next pushed on to Prepolatz defile in the
eastern part of the Kopaonik Mountains, which they reached on November
20, 1915, then scaled the intervening ridges on their way southward.
The Serbians struggled on, but the same day on which Kövess came
within striking distance of Mitrovitza, Gallwitz was threatening
Pristina from the north end of the Lab Valley.

Thus the Serbians were finally driven out of the last corner of their
native land, on November 20, 1915. Only a week previously Mackensen
had communicated with the Serbian leaders, offering them terms that
certainly should have seemed alluring to them in their dire extremity.
This offer had been to the effect that if they would make peace they
should lose nothing but Macedonia and a strip of territory along the
Bulgarian frontier, including Pirot and Vranya.

The answer of the Serbian Premier, M. Pachitch, to this offer of
separate terms was:

"Our way is marked out. We will be true to the Entente and die
honorably."

After the evacuation of Nish the Serbians, under Marshal Stepanovitch,
retreated to the west bank of the Morava, blowing up the bridges as
soon as they were across. Here they held up the Bulgarians for some
time, the river acting as a screen. It will have been noted that the
Serbian forces always offered the most stubborn resistance to the
Bulgarians, often coming to close quarters with them, whereas the
Austro-Germans drove them on miles ahead of them. The reason was that
the Bulgarians were not so well provided with heavy artillery, such as
they had being more or less matched by the Serbian field pieces. The
Germans, however, could stand off several miles and shell a Serbian
position without the Serbians being able to reply with one effective
shot.

In this battle along the Morava, King Peter appeared, hobbling up and
down the lines under fire, talking to the men here and there and
uttering words of encouragement. This had the effect of reviving some
of the old enthusiasm which was somewhat dampened after such a
continuous series of reverses and retreats.




CHAPTER XXXV

BULGARIAN ADVANCE--SERBIAN RESISTANCE


On November 7, 1915, the Bulgarians captured Alexinatz in the north.
The Serbian army of the Timok, retiring from Zaitchar, barely
succeeded in crossing the bridge over the river in time to avoid
complete disaster. In the south, and on that same day, the Serbians
were compelled to abandon Leskovatz. With the capture of these two
towns, and several other minor points along the line, the enemy
secured complete possession of the main line of railroad from Belgrade
through Nish to Sofia and Constantinople, and of the Nish-Saloniki
railroad as far south as the French intrenchments at Krivolak. This
was to them a very material triumph, for hitherto they had been
transporting munitions to the Turks by the water route, along the
Danube to Rustchuk in northern Bulgaria. This route was not only more
direct, but much quicker. Their main object had now been accomplished
in full. Thus Germany was now in direct railroad communication with
Asia, and again the German and Austrian papers made frequent
references to a possible Egyptian campaign in the future. Another
great advantage resulting to both Bulgaria and the two Teutonic
empires from the capture of the railroad was the fact that Bulgaria,
whose cereal crops had been accumulating in big stores because they
could not be exported, could now send them into Germany and Austria,
where they were badly needed, thus defeating in some measure the
object of the British blockade.

From Alexinatz the hard-pressed army of the Timok had only a single
line of retreat, which was by the road to Prokuplie and Kurshumlia,
and, in danger of being cut off by the Germans in the west, it began a
hurried march, though fighting rear-guard actions all the while, and
was thus able to make a junction with the Serbians retiring from
Krushevatz. Prokuplie did not fall into the hands of the Bulgarians
until November 16, 1915. Northwest of Leskovatz, where the pressure
was not quite so extreme, the Serbians under Stepanovitch made a
determined stand on November 11-12, 1915. Charging the Bulgarian
center suddenly, they broke through their lines and threw them back in
great confusion and took some guns and a number of prisoners. But as
usual, the Serbians were not strong enough to follow up their
advantage, and presently strong reserves came up to reenforce the
Bulgarian forces. Two days later the fight was renewed and the
Serbians were compelled to retire down the road toward Tulare and
Pristina.

Meanwhile the Bulgarians in Uskub were sending forces north toward
Pristina, and this sector of the campaign was to witness the battle of
Katshanik Pass, in which the Serbians were yet to put up a fight as
heroic as any of the whole campaign.

It has now become quite obvious to the Serbians that they were not to
receive from the Allies the assistance that was necessary to save
their main armies. At this time there were reports of a Russian
invasion of Bulgaria to be led by General Kuropatkin, and it was even
said that the czar had himself sent a telegram to the Serbian Premier,
M. Pachitch, promising him such aid if only he could hold out until
the end of November, 1915. How much of these rumors reached the
Serbians is not known, but at any rate they did not materially affect
their plan of action. There was only one plan now possible, and that
was to effect an orderly retreat to some territory where their enemies
could not follow, and thus keep the army intact. The way behind them,
into the mountains of Montenegro or Albania, lay open. But without
railroads, without even one good wagon road, it was impossible for an
army to pass this way in a body. It would have to break into small
bands, each taking a separate trail by itself. Aside from that there
was no food supply; the soldiers would starve to death. It was true
that the ships of the Allies controlled the Adriatic, but without
roads no adequate food supply could be forwarded to the retreating
armies. Nor did those barren regions offer any local supply; the
poverty-stricken natives could barely maintain themselves. The only
alternative to a retreat through this wilderness was to escape south
over the Greek frontier, where they could join the French and British
forces outside Saloniki.

But this was just the alternative which the Austro-Germans and the
Bulgarians were determined to deny them. The Serbian forces still
numbered somewhere around 200,000; this body, combined with the allied
troops, who would presently be numbering another 100,000, would form a
military force, its rear protected by the British and French ships,
which the Teutons and Bulgarians would never dare to attack, even
though the Greeks still continued neutral. Moreover, there was no
doubt that the Greeks would interfere should the Bulgars cross their
frontier.

This force, then, would continue a constant threat to the lines of
communication and transportation which had just been opened up between
the Central Powers and Turkey, and along which they would soon be
sending large quantities of war munitions to the Turkish forces at
Gallipoli. At any moment the enemy at Saloniki might strike, and to
guard against such a possibility, the Austro-Germans would have to
maintain larger forces along the railroad than they could spare. At
all costs the Serbians must be prevented from joining the Allies. And
this was the object of the powerful effort made by the Bulgarians to
hurl their forces through the gap between Sarrail and the Serbians in
the Babuna Pass.

However, the Serbians decided on a determined effort to break through
the net that was being drawn around them. This meant, first of all,
that the Katshanik Pass, which in the second week of November, 1915,
was still in the hands of the Serbians but was being attacked from the
south by the Bulgarians, had to be first cleared of the enemy, who
must then be driven out of Uskub, whence the Serbians would then be
able to force their way west to Tetovo, and then south by the main
highway through Gostivar and Kitchevo, to Monastir. Once at Monastir
the road would be comparatively easy to Saloniki, by way of the short
branch of railroad whose terminus was at Monastir.

In the effort to carry out this plan one of the most desperate battles
of the whole Serbian campaign was fought, quite as bloody and as
heroic as any of the large engagements that were fought in the
beginning of the invasion. It failed, but it was a failure of which no
army need to have been ashamed.

On about November 10, 1915, Bojovitch's army with which he had been
holding the pass against overwhelming numbers of Bulgarians, had
dwindled to 5,000. At about that time he was reenforced by three
regiments, including one from the famous Shumadia Division and one
from the Morava Division, which were sent to him along the railroad,
the only bit of railroad remaining to the Serbians, leading from
Pristina to Ferizovitch, the latter point being some ten miles distant
from the Katshanik Pass. The weather had begun getting cold and raw by
this time, and the roads were in a miserable condition. The Serbians,
though exhausted by their many hardships, and weak from the want of
proper food, set out from the terminus of the railroad and pressed on
toward the pass. As soon as they arrived Bojovitch prepared to deliver
his final attack on the Bulgarians.

The Serbian general had now about one hundred field pieces, mostly of
the French 75 and 155 type; 3 inches and 6 inches. With these he began
a vigorous bombardment of the Bulgarian trenches, raining a continuous
shower of shrapnel and high explosive shells on them. Under this
terrible fire the Bulgarians were compelled to retire from their
defensive works and retreat south for four miles, out of range of the
Serbian artillery.

Then the Serbian infantry charged, pouring volley after volley into
the ranks of the retreating Bulgarians. The latter began fleeing in
disorder, but presently they came up against their reserves, whereupon
they rallied. On came the Serbians with cries of "Na nosh! Na nosh!"
and "Cus schtick! Cus schtick!" ("With the knife!" and "With the
bayonet!")

Those were cries that the Bulgarians knew well, and they too set up
the same shouts. The rifle firing died down. The two lines charged
each other silently, like warriors of old, with points of glittering
steel before them. Then came the merging clash, and the rows of
running men broke into turbulent mêlées, knots of struggling, writhing
bodies. Shouts and hideous curses sounded up and down the lines like
the snarls of savage animals. Wounded men reeled, panting and sobbing,
sometimes in their savage agony springing on their friends and rending
them with their hands and teeth before they finally collapsed into
inert heaps, dead. Others, throwing down their unloaded rifles, picked
up jagged rocks and hurled them into knots of struggling men,
regardless of whether they smashed in the skulls of friends or foes.
There had been greater battles in that campaign, but never had the
fighting been so savage, so bitter; even the battle of Timok, the
first encounter between Bulgar and Serb, was far outdone.

For a while it seemed as if the Serbians would actually batter their
way through. One Serbian regiment charged seven times and each time
captured three guns, only to have them wrested out of its hands again.
Once the Bulgarians' center was pierced by a tremendous effort on the
part of the Shumadians and the Morava troops. The Bulgarians sagged
back, and some broke and fled.

But again reserves came on the scene, whereas the Serbians were, every
last man of them, on the front line of the fighting. Fresh forces of
Bulgarians, being shipped up from Uskub by rail, were constantly
arriving on the field, and in the end they were enough to turn the
balance.

For three days the battle had raged, one continuous series of sharp,
hand-to-hand encounters, by night as well as by day. But finally, on
November 15, 1915, the Serbians had reached the limit of their
strength; the battle was going against them. And then they retired
from the pass by way of the Jatzovitza Hills toward Prisrend.

Thus the plans of the Serbians to cut their path south to their Allies
on the Greek frontier were defeated, and they were forced back into
the north again. The effect of the collapse of this effort was
immediately seen in the withdrawal from Mitrovitza of the Serbian
staff, such members of the Serbian Government as had remained there
and the diplomatic representatives of the Entente nations.

The Bulgarians had been perfectly well aware of the plans that lay
behind the tremendous effort made by the Serbians at Katshanik Pass
and they had sought to forestall part of it by attacking Kalkandelen,
a point which had been taken and retaken more than once. On November
15, 1915, they took it again, and finally, driving the small Serbian
force that had occupied it before them, they took Gostivar on the
following day, the Serbians retiring to Kichivo, on the road to
Monastir. On about the same day, or a little later, Boyadjieff, after
a stiff fight, stormed the heights near Gilan, northwest of Kutshanik
Pass, and, after occupying Gilan itself, advanced toward Pristina,
reaching its vicinity by November 22, 1915.

The invaders had succeeded in their main object, which was to round up
and if possible corner the main Serbian forces; they were now rolled
back on to the great Kossovo Plain, where they were united, but
considerably confused and hampered by the vast crowds of fugitives
fleeing from all parts of the north, center and east of the country.
Near Mitrovitza, on the north of the plain, near Pristina on the east
of it, and at Katshanik at its southern extremity, the Austro-Germans
and the Bulgarians had, by the beginning of the fourth week of
November, 1915, absolutely rounded up and hemmed in all the larger
forces of the Serbians. Here they must either surrender, engage in one
last desperate battle that meant certain destruction, or retire
backward into the mountains of Montenegro and Albania, which by this
time were covered with deep snow.

It was finally decided to give the enemy one more battle and if that
failed, as seemed inevitable, to retreat into the wilderness, thus
defeating the main hope of Mackensen, which was to eliminate the
Serbians entirely as a factor in the war, either by capturing the
whole army or destroying it. King Peter himself was present, hoping by
his presence to revive the spirits of his soldiers to such a pitch
that they would make a hard fight, for by this time they had
undoubtedly lost a good deal of their morale.

Von Gallwitz had passed through Nish and was now driving back the
Serbian advance posts in the Toplitza Valley, while the Austrians, on
his right, were pressing on toward Novi Bazar. As will be seen by a
glance at the map, the Serbians were therefore bearing the
concentrated attack of four armies; that which operated from
Vishegrad, the mixed forces under Kövess, Gallwitz's army and the main
Bulgarian forces. The pressure was incessant. Reenforcements had been
hurried through from Germany to make good the heavy losses which had
been sustained during the campaign. Communication between the main
Serbian armies and the Serbians in the south had now been cut
completely and only Prisrend and Monastir remained to be taken before
the whole of Serbia and Serbian Macedonia would be cleared of the
Serbian fighting forces.

The fight in the region of Pristina was to be the last grand battle of
the retreat. Here what remained of the Serbian main forces took battle
formation, finally to dispute the enemy's advance. To this end the
remaining stock of gun ammunition and rifle cartridges had been
carefully saved and a store of war material gathered at Mitrovitza in
readiness for such a stand. The weary bullocks were turned loose from
the gun carriages they hauled, for there could be no taking them along
up among the crags of the mountain country. The guns themselves were
brought into position on the surrounding hills, trenches were dug
wherever possible. Machine guns were located to cover the mountain
paths and valley roads, and strong redoubts, which had been thrown up
with civilian labor before the army had arrived, were manned. And then
there remained a brief period during which the weary soldiers could
take some much needed rest.

There was something tragically significant that this last stand should
be made on the plains of Kossovo, or the "Field of the Ravens," as it
is sometimes called by the natives, on account of the great flocks of
those birds that frequent it. For on this same field it was that
Lazar, the last of the ancient Serbian czars, whose empire included
the whole of Macedonia, Albania, Thessaly, northern Greece, and
Bulgaria, had fought just such a last desperate battle against the
Turks in 1389, and had gone down before the Moslem hordes, and with
him the Serbian nation. Each year the Serbians had commemorated the
anniversary of this event by mourning.

Kossovo Plain is a high plateau, forty miles long and ten wide; from
its rolling fields the forbidding crags of Montenegro and Albania are
plainly visible, black in summer and white with snow in winter.

The gray dawn of a November day brought the first mutterings of the
storm that was presently to break in fury up and down the whole front.
The ragged, mud-stained cavalry of Serbia came trotting wearily
through the infantry lines, bearing signs of the many skirmishes they
had taken part in. The outlying posts were exchanging rifle fire with
the advance guards of the enemy and now, through his powerful field
glasses, the Serbian commander could see great masses of the invading
troops deploying against his front.

"You have come to see the death of a nation," he remarked to an
American correspondent who was present.

"It is sad that a stranger's eyes should see us die," said another
officer in high command.

Soon the crackling and sputtering fire of the Mannlicher rifles was
rippling up and down the lines; the whole front from Pristina to
south of Marcovitza blazed flame, and the last big battle of Serbia's
resistance was on. Two lines of men, the one thick and heavily
equipped, the other attenuated and half-starved, were locked together
in a desperate hand-to-hand struggle.

As though to afford a proper setting for the scene, nature herself
broke into a wild fury; overhead the sky darkened, then the black
clouds burst into a howling storm, full of cold sleet and rain. Amidst
the black, stark hills, in a ceaseless downpour, men trampled and
slipped through the clay mud, dripping wet from head to foot,
stabbing, shooting, hurling hand bombs, until this peaceful valley
echoed to the shouts and roar of combating armies.

And as the first day's fighting increased in intensity, the fury of
the elements overhead intensified, and presently it was impossible to
distinguish the roar of the big cannon from the deep crash of thunder;
intermingling with the shouts and cries of men roared the blast of the
gale as it whipped over rocky eminences.

Here again was raised that dreaded battle cry: "Na nosh! Na nosh!"
With such a shout a whole regiment of the fierce Shumadians leaped out
of its trenches and tore across the intervening ground between its
trenches and the rocks of a near-by eminence which a force of Magyars
had made into a position. Haggard from pain and starvation, their hair
long and matted, some still in ragged uniforms, but most of them in
the sheepskin coats of peasants, their eyes bloodshot with rage, they
formed not a pleasant picture to the intrenched Huns. The rifle fire
from the eminence leaped to a climax; the Hungarians knew they were
fighting for their lives. In the horde rushing up the steep slope lay
an appalling danger. Up they surged, without firing a shot, the
bayonets gleaming in the lightning flashes. Among the rocks appeared
white faces behind black rifle barrels. And then, with one fierce
yell, the men in the shaggy sheepskin coats were hurling themselves in
among the men in blue-gray uniforms. For a few brief moments there was
a wild mêlée; then the men in blue-gray broke and ran.

Such scenes were common throughout the three or four days of the
battle.

What made the resistance of the Serbian soldiers so fierce was the
knowledge possessed by each that there was no alternative to victory
but a retreat into those white, bleak wilds behind him. And there was
not a Serbian boy in those ranks who did not realize what a winter's
march through that country would mean.

From the fall of Nish, in fact, the Serbians had been fighting with
their backs to a wall, and grim and bloody were the struggles between
Serb and German in the wild tangle of hills that surrounded the Plain
of Kossovo. Quarter was neither given nor asked, and unlucky was the
too venturesome Austrian regiment that penetrated the Serbian lines
the first few days without sufficient support.

"The 184th Regiment," said one of the soldiers' letters, which were
published in the Austrian papers, "went into a valley and was never
seen again." One Serbian regiment, stationed to hold the mouth to a
small valley, to cover the retirement of another Serbian regiment,
remained at its post for four days, fighting off the greater part of
an Austro-German division, until, of the 1,200 men of the original
detachment, only sixty-three remained on their feet, and most of those
wounded.

To his credit be it said that the aged King of Serbia remained with
his battling men to the end. While the guns were thundering against
Pristina and the thin line of the last resistance was frenziedly
holding back the German and Bulgarian lines, there came to an ancient
church, which was under fire, a mud-stained old man in a field service
uniform. The few foreign correspondents who saw him pass into the
church did not recognize in this old man, bent, haggard and unshaven,
the king who had sat on the throne of Kara-Georgevitch--the grandson
of that famous swineherd.

Before the high altar the old man knelt in prayer while a group of
staff officers stood at a distance, watching him in silence. The crash
of bursting shrapnel came to them from outside and once a window was
shattered and the little church was filled with splinters of flying
glass and still the King of Serbia knelt at his devotions, praying
that at the last moment his kingdom might be saved from destruction.

But in spite of his appeals the end came.




CHAPTER XXXVI

END OF GERMAN OPERATIONS--FLIGHT OF SERB PEOPLE--GREECE


With the fall of Pristina and Mitrovitza on November 23, 1915, ended
the operations against Serbia, so far as Mackensen and his Germans
were concerned. On November 28, 1915, German Headquarters issued an
extraordinary report in which it announced that with the flight of the
scanty remains of the Serbian army into the Albanian Mountains "our
great operations in the Balkans are brought to a close. Our object, to
effect communications with Bulgaria and the Turkish Empire, has been
accomplished." After briefly describing these operations and admitting
the "tough resistance" of the Serbians, who had "fought bravely," this
communiqué asserted that more than 100,000 of them, almost half their
original force, had been taken prisoners, while their losses from
killed and desertions could not be estimated. The impression left by
this document was that there were very few of the Serbian soldiers
left. On the other hand, the Allies claimed that on the date mentioned
Serbia still had 200,000 fighting men left.

At any rate, it was true that Germany had now opened railroad
communications with the Orient. Her engineers and military railroad
staff had repaired the damage the retreating Serbians had done to the
main trunk line, and early in December through trains were running
from Berlin to Constantinople. Having accomplished this, Germany
withdrew most of her troops from the Balkans, leaving the Bulgarians
to finish Macedonia, and Austria to deal with Montenegro.

It was a nation, rather than an army, that was in flight; not for many
hundreds of years has there been such an instance in history. When
Nish had fallen into the hands of the enemy, the population in general
had realized that the whole land was going to be overrun by the
invaders. Then almost the whole people had set out in flight for
Monastir, near the Greek frontier, where the Bulgarians had not yet
closed in. On its retreat from Kossovo Plain the Serbian army caught
up with the rear of this fleeing throng. Winter had set in unusually
early that year. Even at Saloniki on the shores of the tepid Ægean and
sheltered behind a ring of hills, where snow had not fallen in
November in ten years, a fierce northerly gale, known as the "Vardar
wind," had sprung up on November 26, 1915, and kept the air swirling
with snow-flakes, while up in the near-by hills the snow was already
two feet deep. Up in the Albanian Mountains the paths and trails were
already choked, while chilling blasts of sleet-laden winds howled
through the defiles.

The way from Upper Serbia to Monastir led across great, bleak slopes,
which were now being lashed by these terrible winter storms. Old women
and children fell by the wayside; young mothers, hugging their babies
to their breasts, sought shelter behind rocks and died there of
weakness and starvation. All along the road of retreat was marked by
the abandoned dead and dying. One of the very few descriptions of this
phase of the Serbian flight that has appeared was written by Mr.
William G. Shepherd, special correspondent of the American United
Press:

"The entire world must prepare to shudder," he writes from Monastir,
"when all that is happening on the Albanian refugee trails finally
comes to light. The horrors of the flight of the hapless Serbian
people are growing with the arrival here of each new contingent from
the devastated district.

"They say that nearly the whole route from Prisrend to Monastir,
ninety miles, is lined with human corpses and the carcasses of horses
and mules dead of starvation, while thousands of old men, women, and
children are lying on the rocks and in the thickets beside the trail,
hungry and exhausted, awaiting the end.

"At night the women and children, ill-clad and numbed with cold,
struggle pitifully around meager fires of mountain shrub, to resume in
the morning the weary march toward their supposed goal of
safety--Monastir. But by the time this dispatch is printed Monastir,
too, may be in the hands of the enemy. This will leave them to the
mercy of the inhospitable mountain fastnesses, where for the past two
days a terrific blizzard has been raging, or to the Bulgarians."

The chief of the Serbian General Staff, Field Marshal Putnik, old and
now very ill, was driven along the road in a carriage until his horses
fell dead of exhaustion. His escort of soldiers carried him for two
days in an ordinary chair to which poles had been tied for handles and
so brought him to safety. One account reported that the carriages of
the retreating Serbians literally passed over the dead who had fallen
in the road, for it was impossible either to spare the time to drag
them out of the way or to make a detour to avoid them.

King Peter himself had escaped from Prisrend by motor car, accompanied
by three officers and four men, arriving in Liuma over the Albanian
frontier. Thence the monarch and his remaining handful of followers
set out through the mountains, the king traveling part of the way on
horseback and partly in a litter slung between two mules, through mud
and a constant downpour of rain. During the evening of the second day
they lost the trail, which was only rediscovered after much wandering.

After two weeks' rest at Scutari, King Peter continued his journey to
San Giovanni di Medua, Durazzo, and Avlona, whence the party crossed
over the Adriatic to Brindisi in Italy, where the king remained
incognito for six days. After a two days' sea voyage from Brindisi the
old monarch finally arrived in Saloniki, where he was received with
all honors by the Greek authorities and the Allies.

It is estimated that the number of civilians in flight over these
terrible roads numbered fully 700,000. And of these fully 200,000
died.

"It seems so useless," writes a German officer, in a letter which was
published in a German paper, "for there is nowhere else for us to
reach except the sea and there is nothing but the smell of dead bodies
of horses, men, cattle--a discord of destruction that seems contrary
to all our civilization. Our own men are apathetic and weary, and have
no heart in the business. The Bulgarian soldiers are not very popular
with us. In the first place they are more like Russians than Germans,
and there is something about the Slav that makes one's hair bristle.
Their cruelty is terrible."

Meanwhile, Prisrend, on the extreme right of the Serbian main force,
did not fall till November 30, 1915. From Mitrovitza a part of the
Serbian army had retired and fought the Austrians again at Vutchitra,
but was beaten and driven across the Sitnitza, on the western bank of
which stream it continued fighting until finally it fled into the
mountains.

The main line of retreat was along the highway from Pristina to
Prisrend. The Bulgarians, pressing on after, took the heights west of
Ferizovitch and also advanced northward toward Ipek, against which
point Kövess had sent a detachment. The retreat to Prisrend was
covered by the Shumadians. On November 27, 1915, 80,000 Serbians stood
at bay in front of this town, but next day, after a few hours'
fighting, and having used up all their ammunition, they unbreeched
their guns and fled across the frontier into Albania, making along the
White Drin for Kula Liuma, while several thousands of them fell
prisoners into the hands of the enemy. Thus was the last shot of the
Serbian resistance in the northern section of the country fired.

[Illustration: Retreat of Serbians.]

The retreat of the Serbian armies through the mountains of Albania was
almost as heartrending as the flight of the civilian population. Day
by day, thousands of men, ill-clad and ill-shod, or with bare and
bleeding feet, so famished that they fed on the flesh of dead horses
by the wayside, stumbled painfully and wretchedly along, over trails
deep in snow, some going west toward Scutari, others attempting to
reach Greece through Elbassan and Dibra. All semblance of military
formation or order was lost; they were now nothing more than a fleeing
mob of disorganized peasants, some unarmed, others with guns but no
ammunition. Officers and men trudged on side by side, on equal
terms. Once an Austrian light mountain battery, following on the
heels of the retreat, had arrived at the mouth of a long defile
through which the last of the retreating Serbians were winding their
way into the mountains, in single file. The Austrian battery
immediately opened fire and swept the defile from end to end of all
human life.

While the main Serbian armies were being driven out of their native
land, the Bulgarians, after taking Babuna Pass and Kitchevo and
Kruchevo, on November 20, 1915, halted on their way to Monastir, now
only a few miles distant. Monastir itself is practically an
unfortified city; it lies on the edge of a broad level plain, offering
not the least advantage to a defending force. A few guns might easily
sweep the city into a heap of ruins. But above Monastir towers a lofty
mountain, so steep that even under peaceful conditions a strong man
finds it hard to climb. A few guns placed in position among the rocks
on top of this mountain could command the city and all of the
surrounding plain within range of their fire. Therefore, the problem
of an invading force is to take the mountain outside the city, rather
than the city itself.

Beyond this lofty eminence, to the westward, rise thickly wooded
ridges, rugged mountain fastnesses, through which, along the bottom of
a winding defile, runs the road to Resen and Ochrida and three large
lakes: Ochrida, Prespa, and Little Prespa. Below these lakes, which
almost join, is the Greek frontier; above them, and some distance
beyond, lies the Albanian frontier.

For some days Vassitch and his remaining force of a few thousand
footsore soldiers remained at Prilep, awaiting the Bulgarians. When
finally they took Brod, with the object of cutting off his retreat, he
quitted Prilep and fell back on Monastir, then retired over the
mountains to Resen. Here he was joined by two barefooted regiments
that had come down from the north with the refugees, but they were too
exhausted to be of much value for fighting. Altogether they numbered
about 7,000, while the pursuing Bulgarians were at least 30,000
strong. At Resen, where the roughness of the country enabled them to
make some resistance, they fought the last battle, or skirmish rather,
that was to take place between the Serbians and the invaders, then
retired down along the eastern shore of Lake Prespa and so over into
Greece. And now not one Serbian soldier remained either in Serbia
proper or Serbian Macedonia. Many of them were yet to do some more
fighting, against the Austrians at least, for Austria had yet to
invade and conquer that other little Serbian state, Montenegro. As yet
the Austrian right wing of Kövess's army had not entered Montenegro,
but maintained itself at Vishegrad, from which, using it as a pivot,
the center and left wing had swept over Serbia. From Vishegrad across
the northern boundary of Montenegro stretched another force of
Austrians, meant only to hold the Montenegrins back. Hitherto, the
Montenegrin army had been facing this line, without being able to
afford the Serbians much assistance. It was not until after the last
of the Serbians had been dealt with that the Austrians turned their
attention toward the Montenegrins and the conquest of their rugged
country. Nor did they seriously undertake this task until toward the
end of the year; the whole of this campaign is an episode by itself
and will be dealt with presently.

With the disappearance of the last of the Serbian armies into the
defiles of the Albanian Mountains, the French and British forces,
which had been vainly endeavoring to save Serbia, had no longer any
special object in holding their advanced positions in Macedonia,
especially as they were not strong enough to undertake an offensive
movement, even after the last Serbian defeat, though during November,
1915, large reenforcements had been arriving and disembarking in
Saloniki. As already stated, the rumors of military action on the part
of Russia against Bulgaria had proved unfounded and a second
bombardment of Varna had had no effect on the course of the campaign.
Italy had done nothing in the Balkans as yet, except to fire a few
shells into Dedeagatch on November 11, 1915. A month later she landed
an army on the Albanian coast, at Avlona and elsewhere, but, while
this facilitated the escape of many of the Serbian refugees, it was
too late to have any effect on the military situation.

Throughout the latter part of November, 1915, after the battle between
General Sarrail's army at Mt. Archangel, the British had sent up
considerable forces which were deployed on the French right and were
holding the mountain chain to the north of Lake Doiran, forming a
natural boundary between Greek and Bulgarian territory.

Though Sarrail had repulsed all the Bulgarian attacks, his position
was rendered embarrassing by the fact that the Greek Government had
decided to concentrate a large part of its army in that particular
corner of its frontiers. Obviously, the Greeks had a right to make
whatever movements they wished on their own territory, but the
consequences were singularly unfortunate, both for the French and the
British, for the Greek commander in chief found it necessary to move
troops and stores along the same line of railroad which the British
and the French were using. This meant a curtailment of supplies and
the checking of effective and continuous supports for the fighting
line.

Added to this was the sudden coming of an early winter. While snow was
falling even in Saloniki, up in the hills where the advanced lines
were deployed a furious blizzard was blowing, against which the
soldiers were only prepared with small tents of waterproof sheets for
shelters. Down in the base camps the gale swept down the tents so that
the men were practically unprotected from the fury of the freezing
blasts. At the front the enemy's positions were no longer visible, the
intervening valleys being full of swirling clouds of snow. On November
27, 1915, the French War Office issued an official communiqué, which
gave the first indication of what was about to happen:

"In view of the present situation of the Serbian armies our troops,
which have been occupying the left bank of the Tcherna, have been
removed to the right bank of the river, the movement being effected
without difficulty."




CHAPTER XXXVII

ALLIES WITHDRAW INTO GREECE--ATTITUDE OF GREEK GOVERNMENT


A general withdrawal into Greece, with Saloniki as base, had been
decided on by General Sarrail, in accordance with instructions from
Paris and London.

This now brought up a very peculiar and delicate situation between the
Allies and Greece. As a neutral, Greece was strongly disposed to take
up the same attitude toward the belligerents as Holland, who during
the early part of the war had been interning great numbers of the
English and Belgian soldiers who had sought refuge inside her
boundaries when the Germans had taken Belgium. The Allies, on the
other hand, were not inclined to accept this point of view, as Greece
was bound to Serbia by a defensive treaty and therefore could not
assume full neutrality without repudiating this treaty. To this Greece
opposed the contention, based on a technicality, that the treaty with
Serbia had in view only a defensive alliance against Bulgaria, whereas
now the Austrians and Germans were attacking, as well as the
Bulgarians. The successes of the Austro-German forces had stiffened
the determination of the Greek King and his Government to stand by
this policy.

However, there was ample room for a diversity of opinion among the
Greeks themselves; on which side Greece's political interests lay was
largely a matter of individual opinion. The chief, and probably the
only, reason why there was any popular feeling in favor of the Allies
was because they were opposed to the Bulgarians, whom the Greeks hate
in season and out.

But on the other hand, Greek ambitions and Italian ambitions clash in
Albania, in the islands of the Archipelago and in Asia Minor. Both
nations hope to acquire territory in those countries. And Italy was
one of the Allies. Had Italy not entered the war it is very probable
that Greece would have aligned herself with the Serbians, French, and
British in the early stages of their operations. But when Italy
declared war on the side of the Allies, there was no doubt in the
minds of the Greek politicians that she had been promised much, if not
all, of the territories on which they had their own eyes. Added to
this, the King of Greece was related to the German Emperor through
marriage, his queen being a sister of Emperor William.

All through November, 1915, and during the early part of December,
1915, the ambiguous, doubtful attitude of Greece was causing the
French and the British much anxiety. It was a curious and, for the
Allies, a very dangerous situation. Faced as they were by an enemy
much their superior in numbers, there was danger of finding that
disadvantage considerably intensified by the inclusion of Greece among
their enemies.

The unrestricted command of the base at Saloniki was now indispensable
for the safety of the allied forces. They had landed under the terms
of a "benevolent neutrality," even at the request of the Greek
Government, while Venizelos was at its head. With the change in
premiers had come a complete change in attitude. The Greeks had begun
hampering the Allies at every turn. Prices were raised; they were
called upon to pay in advance, and in gold, for the use of the
railroads in transporting the troops. Further, the Greek troops were
actually occupying the defensive positions around Saloniki; positions
which the Allies should occupy and strengthen, if they were to make
their base secure. The Greeks stretched barbed-wire entanglements
between themselves and the allied troops. Submarine mines, stored as
if ready to be launched, were discovered at the mouth of the Vardar
River, and the fort at the entrance to the upper Gulf of Saloniki had
been secretly strengthened and heavy guns mounted. The port swarmed
with German and Austrian and Bulgarian spies; its atmosphere was heavy
with hostility to the Allies. Prince Andrew of Greece, in an interview
with a neutral journalist, said that as long as 80,000 French soldiers
were hostages to the Greek army for the Allies' good behavior, the
Allies would never dare to bombard Athens or any other Greek port. So
critical did the situation become that one Sunday the British ships
cleared for action.

And now, after the failure of the French troops to join up with the
Serbians in Babuna Pass, arose the probability of withdrawing their
forces in Serbian and Bulgarian territory across the frontier to
Saloniki. Thus arose the question: How would Greece comport herself on
their retirement? Would she give them complete freedom of
communication south of the frontier to Saloniki? Or would she seek to
disarm and intern them and such Serbians as crossed the border?

A brief review of the political events that had been happening in
Athens since the situation of the Serbians had become acute will show
how divided Greece herself was on these questions.

When France and Great Britain decided to assist Serbia by sending
forces to her support, Venizelos was premier of Greece and it was with
his consent that the first contingents began disembarking in Saloniki
on October 5, 1915. His policy of thus aiding the operations was
thoroughly discussed in the Greek Chamber of Deputies and approved by
a majority of 45 in a house of 257.

The following day King Constantine summoned the premier and told him
that he could not support his policy and demanded his resignation,
which was given. In his place the king installed M. Zaimis. In a
meeting of the Chamber a day or two later, on October 11, 1915, the
new premier defined the policy of his Government as one of armed
neutrality, adding that "our attitude in the future will be adapted to
events, the course of which will be followed with the closest of
attention." Whereupon Venizelos arose, protesting, and made a speech
that clearly defined the attitude that he thought Greece should
follow, and which he felt was supported by a majority of the people.

"Even if there did not exist the treaty with Serbia," he said, "our
interests oblige us to depart from neutrality, as another state wishes
to aggrandize itself at our expense. The question is not whether we
ought to make war or not, but when we ought to make war. In any case
we ought not to allow Bulgaria to crush Serbia. The national soul will
say that it is to the interest of Greece that Bulgaria should be
crushed. If Bulgaria should conquer, Hellenism will be completely
vanquished."

That Venizelos spoke for the majority of the deputies was soon to
manifest itself. On November 4, 1915, in the course of a debate in the
Chamber, a Venizeloist deputy, M. Vlachos, made some criticism of the
minister of war, which caused the latter to leave the Chamber in
violent anger. The scene provoked a tumult, in which cheers and
protests mingled. The deputy finally apologized and order was
reestablished, the minister of war returning to his seat. It was then
that Venizelos arose and expressed the opinion that an apology was
also due from the war minister because of his disrespectful behavior
in leaving the House. The premier, M. Zaimis, thereupon declared that,
in the opinion of the Government, the war minister's conduct had been
perfectly correct and he demanded a vote of confidence from the
assembled deputies.

M. Venizelos replied by delivering a strong attack on the Government's
war policy, which, he said, was not supported by a majority, deploring
that Bulgaria was being allowed to crush Serbia, that she might fall
on Greece later.

As a result of the vote that followed this discussion, the Chamber
refused to express confidence in the present Government by a vote of
147 against 114, in consequence of which the premier, Zaimis, was
compelled to resign. The king, however, still persisted in his
opposition to the policy of the Venizelos party and immediately called
upon M. Skouloudis, one of his own partisans, to form a new cabinet.
To avoid any more expressions of disagreement with the king's policy
on the part of the Chamber, the new premier, only a week later,
ordered the dissolution of that body, his pretext being that the
country at large should have an opportunity of expressing itself
through a general election. This was a move which Venizelos had always
opposed; for, he pointed out, so long as the Greek army was mobilized
and Greek soldiers were excluded from casting their votes, the true
opinion of the people could never be determined. And even if the
soldiers were allowed to vote, they would be under the influence of
their officers, who always supported the king's policy.

This high-handed procedure on the part of the Government created a bad
impression in France and Great Britain. What added to that was the
dispatch which announced, only a few days before, the arrival in
Saloniki in a special train from Sofia of four German officers: Baron
Falkenhausen, Colonel von Erbstner, General von der Goltz's A. D. C.,
Prince von Bülow's son, and another. After a short stay in Saloniki
they departed for Athens in a Greek torpedo boat, accompanied by Greek
officers of high rank. It was just after the arrival of such a mission
in Sofia that Bulgaria had made her agreement with Germany, promising
her support in driving out the Serbians. And meanwhile Premier
Skouloudis, doing as Radislavov, the Premier of Bulgaria, had done,
was protesting daily that Greece had no intention of going against the
Allies.

But incidentally he also expressed the opinion publicly that Greece's
"benevolent neutrality" did not extend to protecting the allied
troops, whether French, British, or Serbian, from the operation of
international law, and that, therefore, these troops would be disarmed
and interned on their passing over into Greek territory.

His words created some alarm in the allied countries, which was
deepened when it became known that Greece was concentrating 200,000
men in and around Saloniki. The question now arose, Should the Allies
submit quietly while Greece carried out this publicly declared
intention, or should they persuade her to a change of opinion by the
application of armed force?

Ordinary arguments had proved unavailing and much time was lost in
talk. Opinion and feeling began growing heated in France and Great
Britain over the delay, as well as over the question itself. France in
particular called for immediate and energetic action, urging that it
was necessary to show the iron hand under the velvet glove. The iron
hand was not a mere figure of speech, for the British and French
fleets could not only bombard the coast cities of Greece, but
institute a blockade which would cut off all her supplies.

On November 19, 1915, the British Legation in Athens, communicated a
statement to the press, beginning with the following passage:

"In view of the attitude adopted by the Hellenic Government toward
certain questions closely affecting the security of the allied troops
and their freedom of action (two privileges to which they are entitled
in the circumstances in which they landed on Greek territory), the
allied powers have deemed it necessary to take certain measures, the
effect of which is to suspend the economic and commercial facilities
which Greece has hitherto enjoyed at their hands."

At the same time came a dispatch from Athens announcing that the
French and British ships had begun to institute a severe search on
board all steamers flying the Greek flag in the Ægean and in the
Mediterranean.

Thus a partial embargo was placed on Greek shipping, only severe
enough to make the Greek Government realize what might happen should a
thorough blockade be established. At the same time two visits that
were paid to King Constantine while this crisis was acute had a
favorable influence on it. One was from M. Denys Cochin, a member of
the French Cabinet and a man held in the highest esteem in Greece; the
other was from Lord Kitchener, who was on his way back from an
inspection of the British forces in Gallipoli, whither he had been
dispatched by his colleagues in the British Cabinet to report on the
advisability or the reverse of abandoning that peninsula.

Still the negotiations were spun out and it was not till November 23,
1915, that matters were brought to a head by the presentation of a
combined note to Greece.

This note demanded formal assurances that the allied troops should
under no circumstances be disarmed and interned, but should be granted
full freedom of movement, together with such facilities as had already
been promised. Greece was only required to live up to her previous
promises; she need not abandon her attitude of neutrality. On the
other hand, the note categorically stated that the Allies would make
restitution for all territory occupied and pay suitable indemnities.
Two days later the Greek Government replied in friendly but somewhat
vague terms, which were not considered satisfactory, and on the 26th
the Entente sent a second note asking for a precise assurance
regarding the liberty of movement of the allied troops. The Greek
answer was liked so little that it was decided to tighten somewhat the
grip of the iron hand.

Thus what is known to international law as a "measure of constraint
short of war" was instituted. The pressure was at once felt. At
Saloniki particularly the people were obliged to live from hand to
mouth, the supply boats being able to bring in only enough flour to
last two days. So great was the need of grain in Greece itself that a
cargo of flour which had been condemned at Piræus was baked into
bread. The Bulgarians attempted to relieve the situation by sending
in 15,000 tons of wheat by rail from Sofia, but as the line over which
it passed through Drama was presently occupied by the British, this
source of supply could not be maintained, nor would it have been
sufficient to have relieved the situation.

The Greek public and their Government were strongly impressed. One
dispatch stated that Greek troops were patrolling the streets of
Athens and that a heavy guard had been placed around the royal palace
in fear of revolutionary attempts. Meanwhile the Cabinet Council was
sitting in permanent conference with the chiefs of the General Staff
trying to come to a decision.

"You are wicked," said M. Rallis, Greek Minister of Justice, to a
British newspaper correspondent; "the only thing we want is peace and
you force us to make war. You are starving us; two wheat vessels were
stopped to-day. You want us to save you when no English soldiers shed
their blood for Serbia, when scarcely an English rifle has been fired.
We do not wish to be another Serbia."

The newspapers which supported Venizelos, on the other hand, accused
the Government of having precipitated the country to the verge of a
conflict with the Entente Powers by want of foresight and a policy of
deception.

Finally, however, the Greek Government came to terms, accepting
practically all that the Allies demanded and withdrawing most of the
Greek soldiers from Saloniki, while the Gevgheli-Saloniki and the
Doiran-Saloniki railroads were handed over to the Allies with their
adjacent roads and land. King Constantine complained that he was
between the devil and the deep sea, or words to that effect, and
protested that Greek neutrality was violated, though he did not deny
that he had at first acceded to the invitation Venizelos had extended
to the Allies to send troops to Saloniki. The king, anxious to be rid
of his unwelcome guests, let it be understood that if the Allies would
only retire from Greece altogether, he and his army would protect
their retreat and see that they were not molested on embarking. But
this was a proposition which the Entente Powers were not inclined to
consider at all by this time.

Meanwhile, before Greece was finally compelled to come to a complete
understanding with the Allies regarding her attitude in the event of a
general retirement on Saloniki, General Sarrail's position was
becoming decidedly dangerous. The Bulgarian armies were, for the time
being, busy pursuing the last remnants of the Serbians out of the
country beyond Monastir, but presently they would be able to give
their full attention and strength to an attack on the Allies. Thanks
to the difficulties occasioned by the concentration of Greek troops in
that section of the country, the British forces had not been afforded
ample means of transportation and they were arriving but very slowly,
though gradually they had established a line along the rugged hills to
the north of Doiran. They had not, at the end of November, 1915,
fought a general action as yet.

General Sarrail's position was a remarkably insecure one. The taking
of Prilep, and subsequently the occupation of Monastir by the
Bulgarians, practically turned his line and exposed him to a perilous
flanking movement against his extreme left on the Tcherna. His troops
were bunched up in a very acute salient, the head of which was just
south of Gradsko, and his front very largely conformed to the
convolutions of this and the Vardar River. On his right, from before
Strumitza Station, the British continued the line to the north of Lake
Doiran.

It will seem somewhat strange that, though the British were the first
to disembark in Saloniki in the first week in October, 1915, two
months should elapse before they took any prominent part in the
fighting. The British commander, General Mahon, reached Greece on
October 12, 1915, to be followed a month later by General Munro, but
the British made no move of any importance. There were some trifling
encounters with outposts, and these had been magnified into battles by
the dispatches from Greece, but the truth was that the French had
borne the brunt of the struggle on the Tcherna, perhaps because they
were then more numerous than the British, who were not actively
engaged in force until the first week of December. Their trenches,
north and West of Lake Doiran, among bleak hills covered with snow,
spread out fanwise in the direction of Strumitza, which they had taken
over from the French when the latter had gone up the Vardar to
Krivolak.




CHAPTER XXXVIII

BULGARIAN ATTACKS--ALLIES CONCENTRATE AT SALONIKI


On December 5, 1915, the Bulgarians gave the first indications of
their preparations to break through the thin lines of the Allies. On
that date the British were to have their first taste of heavy
fighting. The Bulgarians delivered a massed attack at two points; one
at Demir Kapu, another against the British positions on the
Rabrovo-Doiran road.

The first assault of the enemy succeeded in gaining a foothold in the
British trenches, but the British were presently able to regain their
positions and drive the Bulgarians back. Here again it was obvious
that the hearts of the Bulgarian soldiers were not in this fighting.
Most of the British soldiers had never seen any fighting before, yet
they were able to accomplish what the fierce Serbians had not been
able to do; drive a superior force of Bulgarians back at the point of
the bayonet. Numbers of the Bulgarians were taken prisoners, willingly
enough, it seemed, and they told their captors that up to the actual
fighting, until they actually saw the troops they were engaging, they
had been under the impression they were to fight Greeks.

This first attack made the British commander realize, however, that
the enemy opposing him was vastly his superior in numbers. A second
assault, delivered in the face of a hot fire from the British, but
with overwhelming numbers, drove the British soldiers from their first
line of trenches; but they held on to their second line and every
effort to expel them was a costly failure.

Meanwhile, Sarrail, on the Vardar, under cover of a feigned attack on
Ishtip from Kara Hodjali, drew in his men from the Tcherna, and before
the enemy had realized what he was doing, he had retired from the
Kavaar Camp with all his stores, of which there was by this time a
tremendous accumulation, and entrained at Krivolak, blowing up the
bridges and tearing up the railroad behind him. On December 5, 1915,
he had reached the north end of the Demir Kapu Gorge (Defile)
practically without opposition, but in the gorge he had to fight hard
to get out of it.

He had had the forethought, however, to throw up strong defensive
works at the entrance and this enabled him to repel the attacks of the
Bulgarians in spite of the determination with which they were being
pushed. The retreat through the defile was an extremely precarious and
difficult task, as there was no way out except along the railroad,
running along a narrow shelf cut out of the steep, rocky banks of the
Vardar. Yet the retreat was successfully accomplished, with all the
stores, and, after destroying a tunnel and a bridge across the Vardar,
it was continued to Gradetz, where heavy intrenchments had been thrown
up.

Here, on December 8-9, 1915, the Bulgarians delivered a very violent
attack, but were driven off with heavy losses. On the 10th the French
announced that they were now occupying a new front, along the Bojimia,
a branch of the Vardar, and that they were in touch with the left
flank of the British.

Meanwhile, on the east side of the Vardar, General Todoroff was
continuing his attack on the British. He had massed together about
100,000 men. On the morning of the 6th, after the first assault and
under cover of dense mists that were rolling up from the swamps down
near Saloniki, he was able to get in close to the British without
being seen. As the dawn began breaking he poured a rain of
high-explosive shells on the British, which here consisted mostly of
Irish regiments.

As on the day before, the enemy came on in successive waves, so thick
that the later ones carried the first before them, even when they
turned to flee from the heavy fire of the British. Finally the British
were again compelled to give way before the heavy impact of numbers.
By evening they had retired two miles, not a great deal, considering
the masses that were driving them. More than once it looked as though
the British would be literally overwhelmed and annihilated. Eight guns
were lost and about 1,300 men were killed or wounded.

The retirement had been in the direction of the Vardar and by the end
of the second week of December, 1915, the British were able to make
another stand over on the banks of the Vardar, below the right wing of
the French.

The whole Bulgarian field army was evidently divided between the
Rabrovo road and north of Strumitza Junction. It was clearly the
enemy's intention to drive a wedge into the center, thus to isolate
all the northern divisions and to bring about a general disaster.

Sarrail recognized his danger and began to retire his northern units,
covering the movement with a fiercely contested action in the region
of Strumitza.

[Illustration: A British hydroplane returning to the mother ship after
patrol duty over Saloniki. In the background are the City of Saloniki
and warships of the Allies.]

By December 11, 1915, the French and British lines were close back on
the Greek frontier, and although the Bulgarians delivered a heavy
attack on that day, it was their final effort; the following day the
Allies were across the frontier and the Bulgarians made no attempt to
follow them. Possibly they were restrained by their German allies, or
possibly they had no desire to involve Greece, for had the Bulgarians
set foot on Greek soil, it is more than likely that Greek troops would
have resisted them, and once such an encounter had taken place, Greece
would probably have thrown herself into the war on the side of the
Allies. As they retired, the allied troops destroyed the railroad
behind them and set fire to Gevgheli and other towns on the other
side of the border. And, by a fortunate coincidence, it was on the day
before they crossed the frontier that Greece had finally accepted the
proposals of the Allies that their forces were to be allowed freedom
of movement.

Considering the tremendous difficulties he had had to contend with, in
the face of the immense strength of his enemy, General Sarrail's
retreat by no means diminished his reputation as a military leader.
Although his men had at their disposal only one single-track line of
railroad and no roads, their retirement was conducted in such order
that they were able to save and withdraw all their stores, while the
total of their casualties did not exceed 3,500, a very moderate loss
under the circumstances. In less skillful hands the retreat might
easily have developed into an irretrievable disaster. In its main
object, saving Serbia from being crushed, the campaign had certainly
been a failure, but this was rather the fault of the allied
governments, and not because of the inefficiency of the leaders in the
field.

The Bulgarians, naturally, felt that they had attained a great
victory, and in a measure they had. On December 14, 1915, they
published their version of the operations as follows:

"December 12, 1915, will remain for the Bulgarian Army and nation a
day of great historical importance. The army on that day occupied the
last three Macedonian towns that still remained in the hands of the
enemy: Doiran, Gevgheli, and Struga. The last fights against the
British, French, and Serbians took place near Doiran and Ochrida
Lakes. The enemy was everywhere beaten. Macedonia is free! Not a
single hostile soldier remains on Macedonian soil.... In the course of
ten days the expeditionary army of General Sarrail was beaten and
thrown back on neutral territory. On December 12, the whole of
Macedonia was freed. The pursuit of the enemy was immediately stopped
when the neutral frontier of Greece was reached."

This communiqué further pointed out that Serbia had been beaten in
forty, and the British and French in ten, days. An official paper in
Sofia declared that the "victories won over the Franco-British hordes"
was even more glorious than those won over Serbia and declared that
Bulgaria had given a lesson to the so-called Great Powers, Great
Britain and France, showing them at the same time the manner in which
small nations could fight for their independence.

That the Bulgarians did not pursue the allied troops across the Greek
frontier was one of the surprises of the campaign. What the Greeks
would have done had their hereditary enemies invaded their soil, even
though not for the purpose of attacking them, was a question which
perhaps the Greek Government itself had not fully answered. Certainly
the critical character of the situation placed the Greeks in a very
uncomfortable position. It had been at their suggestion that the
Allies had come to Greece, and though a protest had been made against
their landing, that protest was the last word in formality.

Consequently the Allies had some shadow of a moral right to the use of
Saloniki, but now that Sarrail was falling back, with every prospect
of his bringing the battle front down with him into Greek territory,
the diplomatic situation became extremely delicate. To add to the
confusion of the situation, it must be remembered that two or three
divisions of the Greek Army had been concentrated in the very district
through which the Bulgarians must pass, should they decide to follow
the retiring column of the Allies' troops. Here, then, was the Greek
dilemma; they had allowed, under formal protest, a pacific penetration
of their country in accordance with the agreement they had made with
Serbia, that the latter should be allowed to import armies, munitions,
and other military material over the Saloniki-Uskub railroad. This
agreement, Venizelos insisted, was binding on Greece, notwithstanding
the equivocations of the king. But when the French and British troops
retired, another situation was created altogether, because it was
scarcely likely that the Bulgarians would stop short at the frontier
of Greece, and more than likely that they would follow up their
advance and incidentally shell and destroy Greek property. Thus
Bulgaria would be doing what the Allies had very carefully avoided
doing: commit an act of war against Greece.

But fortunately for Greece, the Bulgarians did not continue the
pursuit, though the Greek Government waited anxiously to see what turn
events would immediately take. Sofia published the most reassuring
things about the friendliness of Bulgaria for Greece, though of course
Athens, being herself the seat of a Balkan nation, knew what value
such protestations of affection had. Greece had only to recall the
expressions of friendliness Bulgaria had uttered to Serbia less than a
week before attacking her.

Meanwhile the French and British had fallen back on an intrenched line
two or three miles to the south of the Greek frontier. This front
stretched from Karasuli, on the Vardar River, to Kilindir, on the
Doiran-Saloniki railroad, and was about fifteen miles in length. The
French were still on the left and the British on the right. The
British flank, in the east, was about thirty miles from Saloniki.
These lines were strongly intrenched and otherwise strengthened, for
it was not yet certain that the enemy did not mean to invade Greece.

In the early days of October, when the Allies had first begun landing
their troops, it had not yet been definitely decided that Saloniki was
to be held permanently, or at least as long as the war lasted, but by
this time the value of the port had been realized. So long as it was
held in strong force it constituted a constant threat against any
attempt on the part of the Austro-Germans to push their invasion down
into Egypt. Further, it was suggested by naval experts that if ever it
passed into the hands of the Germans, it might easily become the base
for an effective submarine warfare in the eastern Mediterranean, which
would be extremely dangerous to the allied fleets in those waters,
already the scene of considerable submarine activity, as was
demonstrated by the sinking of not a few transports, war vessels, and
other, ships by the enemy. These waters could not be dragged with
steel nets, as had been done in the British Channel. As the terminus
of the railroad running through Macedonia from Belgrade, Saloniki was
potentially an important city. Austria had long been aware of the high
significance of this port and it was, in fact, the final objective of
her "Drang nach Osten" policy. When it fell to Greece after the
Second Balkan War she had been bitterly disappointed, which was one
reason why she had done her best to spur Bulgaria on to precipitate
that unfortunate campaign. And this was another little matter which
probably helped to swing the balance of Greek sympathy toward the
Allies. What prosperity Saloniki had enjoyed during Turkish rule had
been entirely due to its big Jewish population, which had been the
mainstay of its commercial activities.

When Greece acquired possession little change followed, and when the
troops of the Allies began to disembark in the beginning of October
they were at once confronted by a serious difficulty in the absence of
docking and local transportation facilities. There was, further, the
serious difficulty of obtaining space ashore for camp ground for the
troops, as well as suitable level stretches for aeroplanes, Greek
troops being in occupation of all such spots. Moreover, the railroad
facilities, even when given over entirely to their use, were
inadequate.

So long as the outcome of the effort to join up with the Serbians
remained in doubt the Allies had not given much energy to fortifying
Saloniki in great strength, but immediately the retirement was decided
upon this task was undertaken with some dispatch. On and after
December 12, 1915, the Allies, having at last succeeded in compelling
Greece to agree to their plans for a permanent occupation, began
preparations to meet all possible events in the future. As the Greek
troops withdrew, French and British forces took their places, some
being fresh arrivals, for reenforcements were landing daily at the
rate of between 4,000 and 5,000. As there were many rumors of the
enemy's intention to advance and attack before the city should be made
more defensible, the work of making it as formidable as possible was
pushed with fever heat.

Steps were at once taken to establish strong lines of intrenchments.
In the course of a week or ten days this task was sufficiently under
way to settle the alarms of an immediate attack from the enemy; the
lines of the defensive works followed a half circle of hills and
lakes, some fifty miles in extent, reaching on the west from the
Vardar River to the Gulf of Orfano on the east and inclosing a very
considerable area, giving the Allies sufficient freedom of movement.

Yet it was fortunate for the Allies that political considerations
deterred the enemy from making the attack. Had the Bulgarians advanced
in full force, the Allies would have been heavily outnumbered, not
only in men, but in heavy artillery and ordinary field guns as well.
It is doubtful whether they could successfully have resisted a
determined effort to turn their flanks.

The conformation of the coast line around Saloniki is a handicap to a
continuous defensive line. It would demand more men than other
conformations would. Saloniki stands on a gulf, or bay, and this would
necessitate spreading the defending lines around it in almost a
complete circle, so that the adjacent shores would be protected as
well.

There does exist a natural horseshoe of positions from which Saloniki
could be held and which would cover the port from sea to sea, but
their development extends from 120 to 130 miles of country, an area
which could not well be held with less than a force of half a million
men. At the eastern horn of the Gulf of Saloniki runs the Kaloron
Ridge, culminating in a peak some 3,000 feet above sea level. All the
southern slopes of this ridge are exposed to the fire of any fleet of
warships that might lie offshore. This ridge continues toward the
north by two more peaks, each connected with its neighbor by a
saddle-shaped ridge. The positions along this ridge would pass first
over a point about a thousand feet high, covering the village of
Galatista, and next by a chain to the Hortak Dagh Mountains, one of
the nearest points in the line to Saloniki.

To the north again the ground falls abruptly to the level of Lake
Langaza, thence turns eastward to the height of Dautbaba, after which
the lines could be stretched to the borders of the swampy region at
the mouth of the Vardar, ground which is as impassable as the Pripet
Marshes on the Russian front and which were formerly occupied by the
Bulgarian comatjis, in spite of all the efforts of the Turks to eject
or capture them.

[Illustration: The Allies at Saloniki.]

On December 20, 1915, there arrived in Saloniki, General de Castelnau,
Chief of the General Staff of the French Army. He came with the same
purpose that had brought Lord Kitchener, to make a tour of inspection
of the Near Eastern situation. No doubt a certain anxiety was felt in
France and England regarding the security of the Saloniki position,
and General de Castelnau had been dispatched to investigate. With
General Sarrail he made a thorough survey of the French lines, and
with General Mahon he undertook an equally searching tour of the
British section. Apparently he was satisfied with the situation, for
soon after he stated in an interview to the press that the position of
the Allies in Saloniki was excellent. After having passed a week with
Generals Sarrail and Mahon, he paid a short visit to King Constantine
on the 26th. On the same day the French Government issued an official
communiqué, which announced that General de Castelnau, together with
Generals Sarrail and Mahon, had settled upon the plan of action to be
followed by the Allies and that he had assured the French Government
that the arrangements which had already been made rendered the safety
of the whole expedition absolutely certain.

This statement came as rather a strong contrast to an official
declaration made by the German Government to the effect that Germany
would be established in Saloniki by January 15, 1916. Possibly the
Teutonic allies may have planned at that time to initiate a campaign
against Saloniki, but apparently pressure on their lines on the other
fronts became so strong as to divert them from this object.

However, the year was not to close without some disturbance of the
monotony of the situation that now set in at Saloniki. In the middle
of the forenoon of December 30, 1915, an attack was made on the city
by a fleet of the enemy's aeroplanes, which sailed overhead at a great
height and dropped bombs, doing considerable damage. One bomb fell on
a detachment of Greek troops, which was carrying on drill maneuvers
outside the city in the presence of Prince Andrew of Greece. Attempts
were made from the warships in the harbor to reach the aircraft with
their antiaircraft guns, but as the aeroplanes were over ten thousand
feet high they were not hit. French aeroplanes were sent up to engage
them, but by the time they had circled up to the same high altitude,
the enemy had disappeared over the mountain tops toward Monastir.

Less than six hours later the soldiers of the Allies suddenly
descended on the German, Austrian, Bulgarian, and Turkish consulates
and arrested the enemy consuls and vice-consuls, taking them prisoners
together with their families and entire staffs. They were immediately
marched down to the quays and sent aboard one of the battleships. The
four consular buildings were then taken over by the Allies as
barracks. On the following day the consuls and their belongings were
on their way across the Mediterranean to some unknown destination,
though, as developed later, they were landed at Marseilles in France,
thence sent to, and liberated in, Switzerland. Later the Norwegian
consul was also arrested on a charge of espionage.

One of the disadvantages under which the Allies labored in Saloniki
was the comparative ease with which the enemy could spy on their
movements. This had especially been the case when their lines had been
advanced beyond the Greek frontier.

The Greek Government protested at this breach of neutrality, declaring
that such high-handed proceedings undermined its sovereignty and the
enemy Powers also protested and threatened reprisals.

Further proof of the decision that the Allies had made to remain in
Saloniki was given by their occupation of Castellorizo, an island
lying off the mainland of Asia Minor near Rhodes, commanding the Gulf
of Adalia. Five hundred French soldiers had been landed, with a view
to using the place as a base for operations in that part of Turkey,
should that later become feasible. The Greek Government again
protested, as it also did when, in the first week of January, the
Allies arrested the German, Austrian, and Turkish consuls at Mitylene
for the same reasons that had led to the arrests in Saloniki, and
shipped these men away on a man-of-war. Greece was indeed kept quite
busy framing protests during this period, for on January 11, 1916, a
detachment of French soldiers took possession and military control of
the island of Corfu, but the Greek garrison there offered no
opposition. The place had some strategic value, but the main purpose
for which it was to be used was as a sanitarium for the Serbian
refugees, who were beginning to arrive from Albania, and many of whom
were in miserable physical condition.




CHAPTER XXXIX

ITALIAN MOVEMENTS IN ALBANIA--CONQUEST OF MONTENEGRO


While the French and British were strengthening their position in
Saloniki in every possible way, the Italians were beginning a movement
which was to have some influence in the Balkans.

Already, a year before, Italy had landed a small containing force in
Avlona, Albania, on the Adriatic coast, because Greece had previously
occupied a section of southern Albania, contiguous to her frontier.
Albania, it will be remembered, had been declared an independent
nation after the Balkan wars and William of Wied had been appointed
its sovereign, by the consent of the Powers. But so turbulent had his
subjects been that finally, when an uprising threatened his life, he
fled on a foreign warship. The leader of the Albanians, in so far as
they could be brought to respect any one general leader, was Essad
Pasha, the Albanian commander at Scutari, who had defended that place
so long and so valiantly against the attacks of the Montenegrins
during the First Balkan War.

Already in the latter days of November there had been rumors that
Italy was landing an army of considerable size in Avlona, to assist
the Serbians. This could easily be done without attracting much
attention, as this town, often described as the "Gibraltar of the
Adriatic," is not more than fifty or sixty miles from the Italian
coast and can be reached by steamer in a few hours. Its occupation by
an enemy would be highly undesirable, from the point of view of
Italian interests.

Baron Sonnino, the Italian prime minister, made a speech in which he
declared that Italy was determined to do everything to assist the
Serbian army, and that the Italian flag on the other side of the
Adriatic would also constitute a reaffirmation of Italy's traditional
policy, which included the maintenance of Albanian independence.

By the end of the first week of December, 1915, an army of 50,000 had
been landed. With part of this force Italy occupied Durazzo on
December 21, 1915, joining up there with Essad Pasha, who had declared
himself against Austria. A few days later this chief, in the name of
the Albanian nation, declared war on Austria.

Meanwhile, the Austrian warships had become very active along the
coast; in December their activities culminated in an attempt to
bombard Durazzo, whereupon they were engaged by some Italian, French,
and British ships and compelled to retire, with the loss of two
destroyers.

Thus, at the beginning of the year 1916, a period of comparative quiet
seemed to be settling down over the Balkans, with one exception. And
that exception was Montenegro. Austria was now prepared to turn her
full attention to this little state, whose soldiers had invaded her
territory several times, during the Serbian campaign at the very
beginning of the war, and now again, when the final invasion had been
undertaken.

Little was heard of Montenegro in the press dispatches, but she had
thrown the full strength of her little army into the field against the
Austro-German invaders. Before the Balkan wars her fighting men had
numbered some forty thousand, but by this time they were reduced to
something less than twenty thousand. They were short of artillery and
munitions, short of all kinds of supplies, even food, but it was a
difficult task for the Allies to offer them any material relief.
Montenegro is unserved by any seaport and even the Italians who had
landed at Avlona did not hope to establish any communication with them
through the mountainous country intervening.

The one topographical feature of Montenegro that must be especially
noted is a mountain which rises abruptly, dominating the surrounding
Austrian territory along the coast, more especially the seaport and
naval station, Cattaro. The importance of this eminence, Mount Lovcen,
would have been paramount, had it been properly equipped for offensive
action.

For Cattaro is a natural harbor of the first order, capable of
accommodating the whole Austrian fleet. The barracks at Cattaro are
plainly visible from the top of Mount Lovcen, but to bring guns of a
large enough caliber up there to reach those barracks was practically
impossible, on account of the rugged nature of the surrounding
country.

During the ten weeks the fourth and final invasion of Serbia was
running its course, the warriors of the Black Mountains were engaged
in giving their kinsmen, the Serbians, their full support. Indeed, the
Montenegrin army, though it amounted only to a few regiments, had held
a slice of Bosnia for some time, formed the left flank of the whole
Serbian position and did good service during the earlier stages of the
conflict, being opposed to the Austrian lines around Fotcha and on the
Lim, a branch of the Drina.

But the Austrians along this part of the front were satisfied merely
to hold the Montenegrins back, not a very difficult task, considering
their numbers. On the other hand, any attempt to advance into their
mountainous country would have been an extremely arduous undertaking,
entirely out of proportion to the importance of the Montenegrin
forces, from a military point of view.

When Serbia had finally been overrun, Mackensen withdrew his Germans
and also some of the Austrians, these being sent north up to the
Russian front, where there seemed danger of renewed activities on the
part of the czar's forces. Especially threatening were the rumors that
the Russians were about to make a descent on Bulgaria through Rumania,
or across the Black Sea.

The Austrians along the Montenegrin front, however, remained where
they were and presently they were strongly reenforced, for Austria was
determined on the permanent elimination of Montenegro, as she had been
determined on putting an end to the Serbian nation. Nor was this
impossible, in spite of the mountainous nature of the country, if only
the invaders were provided with heavy enough guns. What could be done
in Serbia could also be done in Montenegro.

As far back as the middle of November, 1915, it was announced in the
dispatches from Rome that Austria was assembling a force of three army
corps in Herzegovina to attack Montenegro from that side. There was
also available the Austrian troops already in Serbia on the eastern
frontier of Montenegro, to say nothing of the Bulgarians, who so far
assisted the Austrians as to take Djakova, on December 3, 1915. The
whole expedition was put under the command of Von Kövess, shortly
after the fall of Mitrovitza.

King Nicholas was not ignorant of what was coming. At the end of
November, 1915, after Serbia's last resistance had been overcome, he
issued a proclamation to his people in which he said that Montenegro
would continue the fight to the bitter end, even though it was
probable that she would share the fate of Serbia. The Allies, he went
on to state, would make every effort to keep, not only the army, but
the people as well, supplied with all that was needed to live and to
resist the enemy. Supplies had always been a hard problem in that
poverty-stricken little land and when the Serbian refugees began
flocking in, it became an insoluble problem, unless with help from
outside, which was not always forthcoming.

It was obvious that, in spite of the fact that they had assisted in a
successful invasion of Serbia, the Austrians, now that they were by
themselves again, were not so confident of overcoming even the
Montenegrins that they could afford to undertake the campaign
impulsively, for during the whole month of December, 1915, they did
not press the campaign on the Montenegrin front. During this period
and the first week of January, 1916, they were satisfied with more or
less holding their lines, though they did advance some distance on the
eastern, or Sanjak, front, capturing Plevlie, Ipek, and Bielopolie.
But, as an offset to this success, the Montenegrins scored at least
one victory of considerable magnitude. On December 1, 1915, the
Montenegrin forces operating in southeastern Bosnia defeated the
Austrians near Foca, on the Drina, seven miles across the Drina,
forcing the enemy to retreat along the river toward Gorazda. A few
days later the Austrians retaliated by sending an aeroplane flying
over Cettinje, which dropped a number of bombs on that small city.
Other aeroplanes, flying over the Montenegrin encampments, dropped
circulars stating that all Serbia had been conquered, and if
Montenegro made any further resistance, she would suffer the same
fate. Toward the end of the month the Austrians began a heavy
bombardment of Mount Lovcen and launched a strong infantry attack
against it, but were repelled with considerable losses.

On December 23, 1915, the Montenegrin Government reported having
inflicted a reverse on the Austrians advancing from the east. The
Austrians bombarded violently in the Mojkovac sector, then attacked
Touriak, in the direction of Rozai-Berane, but were thrown back. At
Berane the Montenegrins assumed the offensive for a brief space, and
at Bielo they drove the enemy troops back as far as Ivania.

However, these were all minor operations and the successes of the
Montenegrins were not of a permanent nature. Apparently the Austrians
were all this time strengthening their lines and arranging their
forces for the general offensive, which they were ready to begin early
in January, 1916.

On January 6, 1916, Kövess began decisive operations with a series of
violent attacks on the eastern front, on the Rivers Tara, Lim, and
Ibar, while at the same time the warships in the Gulf of Cattaro
opened a terrific fire on Mount Lovcen.

For four days the Montenegrin troops offered a determined resistance.
Berane, on the Lim, was captured by the Austrians on the 10th. On the
same day the warships suddenly ceased their bombardment of Mount
Lovcen and Austrian infantry swept up the mountain sides and delivered
a strong attack. The handful of Montenegrins at the top were
completely overwhelmed and Lovcen was captured. Some surprise was
expressed among the Allies at the time that this supposedly powerful
stronghold should so easily succumb, but it soon developed that the
defenders were not only short of food, but they had run out of
ammunition and had practically fired their last cartridges.

With Lovcen in the hands of the enemy Cettinje could no longer be held
by the Montenegrins, and on January 13, 1916, it was occupied by the
Austrians. The back of the Montenegrin resistance had now been broken.

On January 17, 1916, it was announced in the Austrian Parliament by
Count Tisza that the Montenegrin Government had sued for terms of
peace. Montenegro's official version of this sudden surrender was
given in a note by the Montenegrin Consul General in Paris:

"The newspapers announce that unhappy Montenegro has had to submit to
the inevitable after having struggled heroically under particularly
disadvantageous conditions against an enemy much superior in number
and formidably armed. It may be considered as certain that if the king
and the Government have yielded it is because the army had expended
the last of its munitions.

"Even flight was impossible. The enemy was on the frontiers; there was
no escape by the sea; inveterate hostility was to be encountered in
Albania. If the Serbian army was able to escape from Serbia, the weak
contingents of Montenegro, exhausted by the superhuman efforts of
their long and desperate, but effective resistance, and by privations
of all kinds, were not able to seek refuge on friendly territory. It
is possible to discuss _ad infinitum_ the conditions of the suspension
of hostilities, the details of which, it is to be observed, come from
enemy sources; it is even possible to heap insults on the unfortunate
conquered...."

The question immediately raised in the British and French newspapers
was: who opened negotiations with the enemy--the king or his minister?
Mïuskovitch, who was frankly in favor of the Austrians, had become
premier at a critical moment in Montenegro's fate and negotiations
were undoubtedly proceeding while the fighting on Mount Lovcen was
still in progress. It was said that this was well known to the troops
in the field, and in consequence they had not made so determined a
resistance as they might otherwise have done.

Meanwhile throughout Germany and Austria celebrations of the great
victory were going on and a Vienna paper published what purported to
be the terms that were to be granted the conquered Montenegrins, harsh
in the extreme. It was even indicated that the Montenegrin soldiers
must all serve with the Austrians on the Italian front. And next there
was a strange silence, a period during which no mention at all was
made of Montenegrins, as to whether they had accepted the terms or
not.

Meanwhile among the Allies, who had not expected that Montenegro would
give in so quickly, there was much criticism of the little state's
surrender. It was suggested that it had been inspired for dynastic
reasons, by a pro-Austrian section of the court. It was even asserted
that King Nicholas had secretly come to terms with Austria before the
fall of Mount Lovcen and that the resistance put up by the
Montenegrins was unreal and of a purely theatrical character. It was
recalled that the wife of the Montenegrin Crown Prince was a German
princess. It was said that a compact was in existence, and had been in
existence for several months, by which Montenegro agreed to hand Mount
Lovcen over to the Austrians in return for Scutari.

These speculations were finally terminated by an official statement
issued by Sir J. Roper Parkington, the Consul General for Montenegro
in London, in which he said that the king and the Government of
Montenegro had peremptorily refused the conditions of peace offered
them by Austria and that Montenegro would continue the struggle to the
bitter end. The announcement made by the Austrian Government that the
Montenegrins had already laid down their arms seemed, therefore, to
have been without foundation. This communiqué also stated that all the
reports issued by the Austrians had been in large part untrue.

"King Nicholas," continued this official announcement, "remains with
his two sons at the head of his troops, to organize a final defense,
and to take part, in case of necessity, in the retreat of his brave
army. His majesty expresses the hope that the Allies will eventually
afford him effectual assistance for the retreat, as they have already
done for the Serbian army."

In the fourth week in January, 1916, the Montenegrin premier, M.
Mïuskovitch, issued a note admitting there had been negotiations with
Austria, but asserted that they had been merely a pretext to gain
time, to insure the safe retreat of the army toward Podgoritza and
Scutari, as well as to give opportunity to the Serbian troops to leave
Podgoritza and Scutari for Alessio and Durazzo in Albania.

On January 23, 1916, old King Nicholas appeared in Rome, where he was
met by his son-in-law, the King of Italy, and from thence he went on
to Lyons, in France, where his queen had preceded him and where, by
the courtesy of the French Government, the capital of Montenegro was
temporarily established.

At this time the Austrian Government had continued issuing reports to
the effect that the Montenegrin soldiers were laying down their arms,
but this seems to have been only partly true. Though many of them were
captured, a much greater number joined the Serbians in Albania, where
they made a juncture with the forces under Essad Pasha.

The Austrians, however, continued their advance, occupying Scutari on
the 23d and San Giovanni di Medua on the 25th. Thus Montenegro itself
was finally overrun.

But this little country, the poorest in Europe, offered the Austrians
very little reward for their enterprise.

An Austrian journalist, accompanying the invading forces when they
took possession of the king's palace in Cettinje, described the
interior decorations as follows:

"In the reception room two great oil paintings occupied the positions
of honor. One was that of the Emperor of Austria and the other was
that of the Queen of Hungary. In the king's study, on one of the
writing tables, there was a portrait of Francis Joseph and in other
rooms we also came across his picture."

[Illustration: The Austrian Campaign in Montenegro.]

On the whole, Montenegro had not made the desperate resistance which
its reputation for hard fighting had led people to believe it would
put up. This partial failure was explained by M. Mïuskovitch, who
declared that when Montenegro entered the war on the side of the
Allies she had been promised everything necessary for the army and
also for the civil population, because even in normal times they
import wheat. Russia and France were to have sent supplies, but this
promise could not be carried out. They had done the best they could
with the materials on hand, but without ammunition they could not be
expected to fight.

The Montenegrins, said the premier, had been given the task of
protecting the rear of the Serbian army and they had defended the
Sandjak frontier so successfully that on this side the Serbians had
had time to retire. But when the Serbians were obliged to fall back on
Montenegrin territory, their arrival precipitated events. The
Montenegrins had still some supplies, but with 120,000 to 130,000
additional mouths to feed, these were soon exhausted. On many
occasions the Montenegrin soldiers did not receive rations for a whole
week and when they did, each ration only amounted to half a pound of
corn flour a day.

After escaping, King Nicholas sent the following letter to General
Vukovitch:

"I order you anew to resist the enemy in the most energetic way
possible. In the event of a retreat, follow the direction of the
Serbian army toward Durazzo. The Serbian commanders have been informed
of this. You will receive food supplies at Medua and farther on.

"Prince Mirko and all the other ministers who have remained cannot in
any case open negotiations with anyone whatever. The French Government
has promised our retreating army all possible facilities, such as it
gave to the Serbian army. Prince Mirko and the other ministers must in
no case remain, but make every possible effort to escape."

Having completed their invasion of Montenegro, the Austrians now began
to continue their advance over into Albania. On January 26, 1916, they
reached San Giovanni di Medua, a seaport in northern Albania. At the
same time Essad Pasha at Durazzo reported that he was being threatened
by an Austrian and Bulgarian column marching northwest from Berat,
while still another column was heading toward the Italian forces in
Avlona.

Meanwhile all haste was being made in getting the Serbians safely out
of Albania and transporting them to Corfu, the Greek island lying
south of Avlona, in the Adriatic, which the Allies had occupied under
the protest of the Greek Government. This undertaking was much
facilitated by an improvement in the weather, which until then had
been very severe, and by the construction of bridges across the rivers
by a force of British engineers. Depots of provisions were also
established along all the roads by which the refugees were straggling
in toward the coast. The few guns, limbers, and munitions which these
fragments of the Serbian army had brought with them were transported
to Brindisi. At about the same time that the Austrians occupied San
Giovanni di Medua, a Bulgarian detachment had occupied Dibra, in
southern Albania, just above the Greek frontier and not far from Lake
Ochrida and Monastir.

On February 10, 1916, the last of the Serbian soldiers had been taken
out of Albania. In spite of the attempt made by Austrian ships and
submarines, involving several minor naval engagements with the ships
of the Allies, the embarkations had been going on at the rate of from
eight to ten thousand men a day. In Corfu alone, 75,000 had been
landed; others were taken to Bizerta, the French naval port in Tunis,
and some had been sent to Italy. On this date Dr. Vesnitch, the
Serbian minister in Paris, made the following statement:

"One hope still illumines the night of invaded Serbia; her avenging
army. At present that army numbers more than 100,000 men. It can be
confidently stated that it will be increased to 150,000."

On February 11, 1916, the Austrians had advanced within a few miles of
Durazzo and on the following day occupied the Tirana heights, between
Breza and Bazar Siak, Breza being about twelve miles northeast of
Durazzo and Bazar Siak about halfway between these two towns. Two days
later the Italian forces advanced against this Austrian column and
delivered a strong attack, which was repulsed by the Austrians,
according to Vienna dispatches. Meanwhile the Bulgarians were
occupying Fieri, about sixteen miles from Avlona, and claimed that
they had taken possession of a third of southern Albania. A day or two
later the Austrian and Bulgarian columns operating in central Albania
made a junction and occupied Elbassan, thirty-eight miles southeast of
Durazzo.

The enemy was, in fact, closing in on Durazzo. On February 25, 1916,
the Austro-Bulgarian forces had driven the Italians to the isthmus
west of the Durs lakes and the Austrian artillery began to open fire
on Durazzo itself. At daybreak the next morning the Austrians closed
in and the Italians and Albanians under Essad Pasha were finally,
after a spirited resistance, driven back from their positions at Bazar
Siak. Soon afterward the Italians on the southern bank of the lower
Arzen were forced to abandon their positions. The Austrians crossed
the river and proceeded southward.

At noon a decisive action east of Bazar Siak drove the Italians from
their positions. The same fate was suffered by the defenders of Sasso
Blanco, six miles east of Durazzo. By evening the entire outer circle
of defenses had been taken. The Austrians, advancing to the inner line
positions, observed that the Italians were embarking on their ships.

They were now able to reach the docks with their artillery, and
attempted to hinder the retirement of the Italians with a heavy shell
fire and succeeded in inflicting some damage to some of the ships. But
by the following morning the Italians had made good their escape, and
with them went Essad Pasha and his Albanian troops.

On February 28, 1916, the Austrian Government issued a full report on
the campaign in Albania which had culminated in that section in the
capture of Durazzo:

"The Austrian troops have captured Durazzo. During the forenoon one
column, under the fire of the Italians, advanced across the northern
isthmus to Portos, four miles north of Durazzo. Our troops advancing
across the southern isthmus were hindered at the beginning by the fire
of the Italian artillery, but toward night numerous detachments, by
wading, swimming, and floating, reached the bridge east of Durazzo,
driving back the Italian rear guard. At dawn an Austrian battalion
entered the burning town."

The spoils were, according to the report, twenty-three cannon,
including six big coast defense guns, 10,000 rifles, and a large
amount of artillery ammunition and provisions.

The Italian version was:

"After our ships had silenced the enemy batteries and swept the coast
and near-by roads of their fire, all the Italian troops which were
sent temporarily to Durazzo to cover the evacuation of the Serbians,
Montenegrins, and Albanians, reembarked without incident and were
transported to Avlona, notwithstanding the bad weather which still
prevails in the lower Adriatic. War material which was still
serviceable was also taken aboard the ships and the damaged supplies
were either rendered useless or destroyed."

Thus, by the first of March the Austro-Bulgarian forces had almost
completed their conquest of Albania, the only important point still in
the hands of the Italians being Avlona. At this point, however, the
Italians had made longer and bigger preparations for defense, besides
which they were here in far greater numbers, estimated at from 50,000
to 120,000.




CHAPTER XL

CONDITIONS IN SERBIA, GREECE, AND RUMANIA


During this time the Bulgarians and Germans were establishing a
semicivil government in Serbia. Many conflicting reports were
circulated, some of them to the effect that there was much friction
between the German and Bulgarian officers. Whether Germany and
Bulgaria really intended to make an attack on Saloniki has until now
been a question, but in those districts near the Greek frontier
considerable forces of Germans remained, garrisoning the large towns,
notably Monastir. The forces along the frontier itself were
Bulgarians at first, but toward the end of February, 1916, detachments
of Germans began taking their places along the front. The Allies in
Saloniki reported that up to this time there were heavy desertions
from the Bulgarian forces, the deserters coming in to Saloniki,
complaining that they were starved and did not wish to fight the
French and British. When the Germans appeared on the front, these
desertions suddenly ceased.

In the middle of January Emperor William of Germany paid Serbia a
visit and inspected the captured towns and cities of most prominence.
On the 18th he arrived in Nish, where he was met by King Ferdinand and
Prince Boris of Bulgaria. The two sovereigns then attended Mass in the
cathedral together, after which they reviewed the troops.

At a dinner which followed the emperor announced to King Ferdinand his
nomination to the rank of a Prussian field marshal and presented him
with the baton. King Ferdinand in turn bestowed the order for bravery
on the emperor and General von Mackensen. In a speech which he made,
King Ferdinand addressed the emperor with "Ave Imperator, Cæsar et
Rex." ("Hail Emperor, Cæsar and King.")

During the first two months of the year the Allies had continued to
reenforce their forces in Saloniki, and toward the end of February
there were reports to the effect that General Sarrail would assume an
offensive up into Macedonia and Bulgaria. On January 20, 1916, the
ships of the Allies again bombarded Dedeagatch vigorously, then
proceeded to Port Lagos and swept that seaport with a heavy shell
fire. A few days later a feat, which in some respects established a
new record in the annals of French aviation, was performed by an
attacking squadron of forty French aeroplanes.

The French squadron left Saloniki at seven in the morning and divided
into two parts, one of which proceeded to Monastir, about sixty miles
distant, and the other going to Ghevgli. Some of the aeroplanes were
armed with guns.

Altogether over two hundred projectiles were discharged at the enemy's
camp, on the building occupied by the Bulgarian headquarters in
Monastir, and on other military establishments. The airmen were
vigorously bombarded in return, but sustained no casualties. One
notable feature of the raid was that the squadron had to contend with
a forty-mile gale from abeam during the whole trip and they had also
to fly over mountains 6,000 feet in height. By noon both sections of
the squadron had returned to Saloniki.

On the part of Greece there was no change; she still continued her
attitude of sullen acquiescence to the presence of the Allies' troops
in Saloniki. In the last week of January General Sarrail sent a
detachment to occupy Cape and Fort Kara Burun, about twelve miles from
Saloniki and commanding the harbor. This action, it was stated, was
due to the fact that a British transport had been torpedoed by a
German submarine under the very guns of the fort. As usual, Greece
protested, and, again as usual, no notice was taken of her protest.

At about this same time King Constantine sent for the American
correspondent of the Associated Press in Athens and asked him to make
public certain statements he wished to make, whereupon he gave the
journalist an interview so remarkable that when it was published it
attracted world-wide attention.

"It is the merest cant," he said, "for Great Britain and France to
talk about the violation of the neutrality of Belgium after what they
themselves have done and are doing.... The only forum of public
opinion open to me is the United States. The situation is far too
vital for me to care a snap about royal dignity in the matter of
interviews when the very life of Greece as an independent country is
at stake. I shall appeal to America again and again, if necessary, for
that fair hearing which has been denied me by the press of the Allies.

"Just look at the list of Greek territories already occupied by the
allied troops--Lemnos, Imbros, Mytilene, Castelloriza, Corfu,
Saloniki, including the Chalcidice Peninsula, and a large part of
Macedonia. In proportion to all Greece it is as if that part of the
United States which was won from Mexico after the Mexican War were
occupied by foreign troops, and not so much as by your leave.... Where
is the necessity for the occupation of Corfu? If Greece is an ally of
Serbia, so also is Italy, and transportation of the Serbs to Italy
would be simpler than to Corfu. Is it because the Italians are
refusing to accept the Serbs, fearing the spread of cholera, and the
Allies are thinking that the Greeks want to be endangered by cholera
any more than the Italians?... The history of the Balkan politics of
the Allies is the record of one crass mistake after another, and now,
through pique over the failure of their every Balkan calculation, they
try to unload on Greece the results of their own stupidity. We warned
them that the Gallipoli expedition would be fruitless and that the
Austro-Germans would surely crush Serbia.... At the beginning of the
war eighty per cent of the Greeks were favorable to the Allies; to-day
not forty, no, not twenty per cent would turn their hands to aid the
Allies."

As for Venizelos, his voice was no longer heard. So disliked was he by
the Government that when certain soldiers joined in a celebration of
his name-day, fifty of them were sentenced to a month's confinement as
a punishment for so expressing their sympathy. In the middle of
February, 1916, this enmity was especially acute. Venizelos himself
told a journalist that he was holding himself so aloof from politics
that he did not even read the reports of the proceedings of the
Chamber of Deputies.

But on March 1, 1916, there was a report from Athens that King
Constantine had suddenly summoned Venizelos. Several interviews
followed, and it was then announced that the king and Venizelos were
reconciled. Whether that meant any change in Greece's policy was not
mentioned. The general impression prevailed at this time, however,
that the great success of the Russians in Asiatic Turkey was having
its effect on the King of Greece and his Government.

Of Rumania little was heard during the entire winter, no startling
changes having taken place in her attitude. In January the British
Government contracted with Rumania for the purchase of 800,000 tons of
wheat, to the value of about fifty million dollars, to be delivered by
the middle of April.

On February 14, 1916, the Rumanian Government announced that its
mobilization had been completed by the calling up of a fresh class
and that the General Staff was completing the defenses of the
Carpathians and the fortifications along the banks of the Danube in
the new Dobrudja territory, which had been taken from Bulgaria during
the Balkan Wars. Take Jonescu, the well-known Rumanian statesman, in
an interview with a French journalist on the same date said:

"As regards Rumanian policy; we made a great mistake in not
intervening when Bulgaria entered the war. I hope that we shall not
make the same mistake again and that we shall not quail before
Germany's threats, if she makes them.... The country is unanimous on
this point."




PART VII--THE DARDANELLES AND RUSSO-TURKISH CAMPAIGN




CHAPTER XLI

CONDITIONS IN GALLIPOLI--ATTACK AT SUVLA BAY


We left the allied troops at the end of July, 1915, firmly established
at two points on the Gallipoli Peninsula. But though they had won
these secure bases by terrible losses and much heroism, yet they had
progressed but slightly toward their ultimate objects--the capture of
the three key points to the peninsula defenses and the opening of the
Dardanelles to the fleets of England, France, and Russia.

Indeed, it had become apparent, not only to those in command on the
spot, but to the authorities in London and in Paris, that the allied
forces had reached a condition of stalemate on the two fronts. In
other words, the Turks by their stubborn, intelligent, and brave
defense had eliminated the possibility of the element of surprise,
without which it was almost hopeless to expect success under the
modern conditions of trench warfare.

Much as the world appreciated the virtues of the Turk as a fighting
man, it must be confessed that he furnished the allied troops with an
unpleasant surprise. He displayed, first of all, a quite remarkable
degree of bravery, hurling himself against the intrenched troops of
France and England with an abandon and a disregard of personal safety
that excited the admiration of his enemies. The whole Gallipoli
campaign is replete with examples of Turkish valor.

Furthermore, the Turks were well led, not only by their German
officers, but by the Turkish commanders as well. Frequently they
surprised and confounded the allied command in this respect,
successfully foiling vital movements by daring and original maneuvers.
This was all the more remarkable because it demanded cool thinking at
critical moments, not the excited religious fanaticism for which the
Turk had been noted. The Turk is an adept in the construction of
trenches and their use.

Thus it became apparent to all that if any real success was to be
obtained in the Dardanelles campaign the element of surprise must be
reintroduced. Sir Ian Hamilton refused to throw away his troops in
hopeless frontal attacks against practically impregnable defenses. He
called upon Lord Kitchener for reenforcements, at the same time
issuing an encouraging bulletin to his troops, telling them that help
was coming.

These new troops, which began to arrive at Mudros about the first week
of August, 1915, were not to be used for strengthening the two fronts,
but were to be employed in an entirely fresh attempt to surprise the
Turks at a new point, push inland before the defenders had time to
bring up troops, and seize commanding positions in the first great
rush. In fact it was a repetition of the attempts made at Achi Baba
and Krithia at the original landings, applying the lessons learned at
such tremendous cost on those occasions.

Besides the military considerations which made such an attempt
desirable, the political situation in the Balkans made an allied
success in the Dardanelles highly imperative. The success of the great
German drive against the Russians in Poland and Galicia had had a
disturbing effect upon at least one of the Balkan neutrals. Bulgaria,
it soon became apparent, was preparing to enter the struggle on the
side of the Central Powers and Entente diplomats reported to their
Governments that nothing short of a smashing victory at the Strait
would change the purpose of King Ferdinand. Furthermore, the Entente
Powers were disturbed over the attitude of Greece and Rumania. It had
been confidently expected that the latter country would enter the
struggle on the side of the Entente Powers at the same time that
Italy actively entered the struggle. Indeed, the Bank of England had
made an advance to Rumania of $25,000,000, although it was expressly
understood that the loan was purely a business transaction and had no
political import. It was believed that Rumanian sympathy, as a whole,
was with the Entente Powers, but it was known that financial,
commercial, and dynastic ties with Germany and Austria were important
and might at any moment, in favorable circumstances, turn the scales
in favor of the Central Powers.

It had become apparent, too, that even Greece had been impressed by
the success of the Germans. It was known that King Constantine, with
his strong German sympathies, and especially his oft-expressed
admiration for the power of the German military machine, was
determined at all costs to keep his little kingdom out of the great
struggle. Inasmuch as these two countries, Greece and Rumania, had
been confidently regarded as belligerents on the side of the Entente
Powers, even their neutrality was regarded as a blow to the Allies.

This, then, was the situation that made a dashing stroke in Gallipoli
necessary. Sir Ian Hamilton prepared for it with great skill. A point
called Suvla Bay, north of the base established by the Australian and
New Zealand troops at Anzac Cove, was selected for the point of
landing, aiming to cooperate with the force already ashore and
assisted by a strong diversion aimed against the Bulair lines.

For this supreme attack, upon which so much was dependent, fresh
troops were brought from England--men who had seen nothing of the
fighting on any front. Indeed, it is a question for future experts and
historians to argue pro and con whether or not the outcome of the
attack was not due almost entirely to this use of green troops. How
they were depended upon in a crucial operation, how they wavered, and
the consequences to the allied operations will be told in the
narrative.

Suvla Bay lies between five and six miles from Anzac Cove. It is a
wide, shallow indentation forming an almost perfect half circle.
Although the landing facilities were not as good as at some other
points on the coast of the peninsula, it had the advantage of
providing plenty of more or less open country for maneuvering, once
the troops were well ashore. This was an element lacking in the case
of all the other landings, and one that Sir Ian Hamilton found of
vital importance. The nature of the Gallipoli country as a whole made
flank attacks almost impossible, but he hoped in the case of the fresh
landing to be able to avoid a direct frontal assault.

The new troops, once ashore at Suvla Bay, were to push rapidly across
country, skirt Salt Lake, and carry the crest of the Anafarta Hills, a
range running to something like 600 feet in height and dominating two
important roads and the adjacent country, excepting the all-important
peak of Sari Bair.

At the same time the Australian and New Zealand troops were to make a
sudden and supreme attack upon Sari Bair itself. It speaks volumes for
the confidence which Sir Ian Hamilton had in the fighting qualities of
these colonial troops that he set them such a tremendous task. Since
the landing at Anzac Cove, the Turks, under the supervision of their
German mentors, had fortified every yard of the thousand feet of
heights known as Sari Bair. An unprecedented number of machine guns
had been brought up and placed in concealed positions from which it
was possible to sweep every line of advance, thus powerfully
increasing the volume of the infantry and artillery fire. It did not
seem possible that an attack, however resolutely and bravely made,
could succeed in the face of such a fierce defense.

The third element in this new attack was to be a demonstration against
Karachali, on the European mainland of Turkey, menacing the Bulair
lines as well as the railway running to Sofia, Bulgaria. For this
purpose a number of troopships and warships carrying what was known as
the Greek Legion and made up of Cretan volunteers, were to be used. It
was hoped that this diversion would attract most of the available
reserves in and about the Gallipoli Peninsula and make impossible the
reenforcement of the troops stationed near Anafarta Hills and Sari
Bair.

The fourth and last element was to consist of a determined attack upon
the Turkish defenses about Krithia, pinning to that spot all the
troops possible. Curiously enough the plans of the Turkish command,
dominated by Enver Pasha, favored the allied troops in that the Turks
had planned an attack upon the enemy on the Krithia lines about this
time and had concentrated most of their available reserves near the
tip of the peninsula.

This intention on the part of the Turks was undoubtedly due to the
information they had received of the arrival of fresh British troops.
But quickly as they pushed forward their preparations, the Allies were
too lively for them. On August 6, 1915, the French and British troops
advanced against the Turks and there followed some of the most
determined and desperate fighting of the whole Dardanelles campaign.
In the fighting the East Lancashire Division, a territorial force, did
heroic work and bore the brunt of the fighting. There were many
individual feats of daring and bravery, yet one stands out
conspicuously. A youthful Manchester schoolmaster, Lieutenant W. T.
Forshaw, held his trench against attacks for forty-five hours. For
forty-one of those hours he was continuously throwing bombs and only
desisted when his arm became temporarily paralyzed. When, finally, the
Turks swarmed into his trench, revolver in hand he led his wearied
troops and drove them out. He richly deserved the coveted Victoria
Cross which was conferred upon him.

At dawn on the following day, the Australians began the attack at Sari
Bair. The force at Anzac Cove had been reenforced with Indian troops
and two divisions of the new troops from England. As planned, the
operations at Sari Bair were to consist of an attack, first on the
right, to serve as a feint, and then a main attack on the left which
was to link up and support the attack from Suvla Bay, moving around in
back of Salt Lake.

The attack on the right, upon what was called Lone Pine Plateau, was a
dispiriting failure on the opening day. The dismounted troops of the
Third Australian Light Horse, a magnificent body of men, were sent
forward to storm the elaborate trenches of the enemy. The attack was
made in three lines. The first was mowed down to a man; of the second
only a few survivors reached the Turkish trenches to be either
captured or killed; the third was stopped by a change of orders just
as it was about to follow the other two into the valley of sure death.

On the following day, the 8th, the main Australian infantry forces
were sent forward against the same trenches and, after some bloody
fighting, succeeded in capturing and holding them against repeated
counterattacks.

While this holding operation was in progress the main attack was being
made on the left. New Zealand and Australian troops, supported by a
picked force of Indian hillmen, used to night warfare and campaigning
in difficult mountain country, starting in the evening of August 6,
1915, made a rapid march along the coast as far as Fisherman's Hut.
There large quantities of stores had been gradually accumulated in
preparation for this very movement.

At Fisherman's Hut the force, numbering 6,000 men, under the command
of Major General Sir A. J. Godley, turned sharply inland and just
before dawn, almost without the knowledge of the Turkish defenders,
had arrived within half a mile of one of the dominating hills on the
right flank of the vitally important Sari Bair.

At this point Godley's force was split into three columns. One
composed of Australian troops, was based on Asma Dere, almost within
touch of Suvla Bay. The Indian troops were within striking distance of
Chunuk Bair, close to the towering peak of Koja Chemen, rising sharply
to almost 1,000 feet, while the New Zealanders were within striking
distance of Rhododendron Ridge.

With the dawn of August 7, 1915, the Turks awoke to the seriousness of
the new menace. So difficult was the country in which the British
troops were operating that the Ottoman commander had dismissed all
idea of a serious attack from that point and had merely posted patrols
in the hills guarding the flank of Sari Bair. Now, however, reserves
were hurried to the scene, and so rapidly and in such large numbers
did they arrive that the troops from Anzac were soon compelled to dig
themselves in in an attempt to hold what they had won by their
surprise march.

Early on the morning of August 8, 1915, the Australians moved out from
Asma Dere. They had as an objective a near-by hill from which it was
proposed to storm the height known as Koja Chemen. Unfortunately for
their plan, the Turks by this time had brought up such forces that the
Australians were outnumbered. They had not proceeded far before they
discovered that they were being rapidly encircled. A retreat was
immediately decided upon and so closely were they followed by the
Turks that the British troops had difficulty even in holding their
original position at Asma Dere.

Meanwhile the New Zealanders were having more success. Carrying full
kit, food, and water, these splendid colonials clambered up the steep
sides of Rhododendron Ridge, swept the Turks from the crest and
charged up the southwestern slope of the main peak of Sari Bair. There
they dug in and fought desperately to hold their advantage against
successive waves of Turkish infantry that came charging down upon
them.

At the same time the Indian troops gained some fresh ground in the
neighborhood of Hill Q.

During the night of August 8, 1915, and the early morning of the
following day, the officers of the British forces who had survived the
fighting reorganized the scattered remnants and prepared for a fresh
advance. About midnight reenforcements arrived at all three bases and
were hurried forward to relieve as much as possible the exhausted men
in the firing line.

Just as dawn was breaking on August 9, 1915, word was passed along the
lines that a supreme effort was to be made to carry the heights that
barred the allied troops from a great victory. British and French
warships posted close inshore and in wireless touch with the troops
opened an intense bombardment of the Chunuk Bair, Hill Q, and Koja
Chemen. Then the whistles blew, the infantry leaped out of its shallow
trenches and, with a yell that echoed and reechoed through the
Gallipoli hills, charged up the precipitous slopes.

Of the three columns, the greatest success was gained by the Indians.
Led by the hardy Gurkhas, they actually reached the crest of Hill Q
and looked down on the much-to-be-desired Strait, bathed in the hot
August sunshine.

The Turkish command full well realized the importance of this
position, and immediately guns from every angle were turned on the
Indian troops and the New Zealanders who were supporting them on the
left. A hurricane of shells was poured on the troops before they had
time to dig themselves in. A few seconds later a counterattack was
launched in such force against the New Zealanders that they and the
Indians were swept down the slopes of Sari Bair.

By nightfall of August 8, 1915, the few Turkish patrols in the
district had been driven off and considerable forces of the British
troops had made their way inland. Splitting into two columns, one
moved north and seized Karakol Bagh; the other and larger force
marched across the low country until it had arrived in position facing
the Anafarta Ridge, its objective.

Lying between the line of advance from Suvla Bay to the Anafarta Ridge
and Asma Dere, the base of the Australian troops operating against
Sari Bair, were a number of hills, two of which played supremely
important parts in the fighting of the next few days. They have been
called Chocolate Hill and Burnt Hill.

It was in an action against Chocolate Hill that the battle opened.
Moving in a night attack on August 8, 1915, Irish troops stormed
Chocolate Hill and came within measurable distance of connecting up
with the Australian division. Then preparations were made for an
attack upon the Anafarta Ridge.

On August 11, 1915, the right wing of the forces landed at Suvla Bay
succeeded in working along the coast and linking up with the
Australians at Asma Dere. They brought with them to the hard-hitting
Colonials the first word of the progress of the Anafarta operation,
and it was a bitter disappointment to the latter to learn that their
heroic efforts against Sari Bair had been largely made in vain because
of the failure of the Suvla Bay force to accomplish its task.

Both sides then busied themselves preparing for the new warfare in
this region. The British consolidated their positions, and on August
15, 1915, sent forward the same Irish division that had captured
Chocolate Hill in an attempt to rush Dublin Hill. After a hand-to-hand
fight with the Turkish troops, who swarmed out of their trenches to
meet the charging Irishmen, the hill was won.

The Turks, meanwhile, were strongly fortifying not only the Anafarta
Ridge proper but some of the hills commanding its left flank. Here
Hill 70 and Hill 112 were the major positions, and on August 21, 1915,
the British troops moved out in an effort to capture them.

A portion of the British troops succeeded in reaching the top of Hill
70. There, however, they were greeted by a terrible fire from a
battery concealed on Hill 112 and forced to fall back, first to the
lower slopes of the hill and then, when the fire slackened, to their
original intrenched positions.

Even less success was enjoyed by the troops making the assault upon
Hill 112. The Turkish artillery poured a curtain of fire among the
shrubs at the foot of the hill which effectively prevented the
proposed advance. Farther to the south at the same time the
Australians were attacking Hill 60 of the Sari Bair group and
succeeded in driving the Turkish defenders from its crest.




PART VIII--AGGRESSIVE TURKISH CAMPAIGN AT DARDANELLES




CHAPTER XLII

SARI BAIR--PARTIAL WITHDRAWAL OF ALLIES


Thus practically ended the Suvla Bay operation and its supporting
movements. Much had been expected of it and, by the barest margin, in
the opinion of many competent military men, great results had been
missed. Just what ultimate effect its success in this operation would
have had on the Gallipoli campaign, on the position of Turkey in the
war and, finally, upon the course of the war as a whole, it is
obviously impossible to say. There are those who claim that the
capture of Constantinople would have brought the struggle to a quick
and disastrous end from the viewpoint of the Central Powers. There are
others, equally entitled by experience and knowledge to speak, who
claim that it would have had no appreciable influence on the final
result. And there is a third body of critics of opinion that the
capture of Constantinople would have been a disaster for the Allies,
inasmuch as it would have opened up vast questions of age-long
standing that would have led to wide dissension between England,
Russia, and France.

There is another and no less interesting phase of the Suvla Bay
operation that will one day be studied with care. In this crucial
attack a reliance was placed upon raw troops who had seen little or no
actual fighting. It was, in a way, an attempt to prove that patriotic
youths, rallying to the colors at their country's need, although
without previous training, could in a few months be made more than a
match for the obligatory military service troops of the Continental
system.

Some extremely interesting details of the preparation for the landing
at Suvla Bay have been given by a correspondent who was permitted to
be present, but who, like all except a few officers of General Ian
Hamilton's immediate staff, was kept in absolute ignorance of the
exact location of the spot selected.

"It has long been obvious that some new landing on a vast scale was
about to be attempted," he wrote, "and surmise has therefore been rife
as to the exact point on which the blow would fall. It was hoped to
take the Turk completely by surprise, and to obtain a firm foothold on
the shore before he could bring up his reenforcements. In this it
would seem as if we have been successful, for two divisions were
yesterday (August 7, 1915) put ashore almost without opposition. The
enemy probably had accurate knowledge of the arrival of large
reenforcements, for it is almost impossible to keep movements of
troops unknown in the Near East, and his airmen have frequently flown
over our camps. He knew, therefore, we were preparing to strike, but
on the vital point as to where the blow would fall he seems to have
been entirely ignorant.

"No one who has not seen a landing of a large army on a hostile shore
can have any idea of the enormous amount of preparation work and
rehearsal which must precede any such movement. For three weeks this
has been going on incessantly.

"For many days past a division has been practicing embarking and
disembarking until every officer and every man knew the exact rôle he
had to play.

"On the morning of August 6, 1915, I was told to hold myself in
readiness to embark that evening for an unknown destination, which
would not be disclosed to me until after I got on board the transport.
There was general rejoicing among the troops when it became known that
the period of preparation was at length passed and that the hour for
action had at last arrived.

"Throughout the whole of August 6, 1915, the work of embarking
proceeded without a stop. Dense masses of fully equipped infantry,
each carrying two days' rations, and tin dishes strapped on their
knapsacks, moved down to the quay and were there embarked. The troops
seemed in excellent spirits and full of fight. They were cracking
jokes and singing many familiar songs, the favorite of which seemed to
be a blending of 'Tipperary' with 'Are We Downhearted?' Which query
was answered by a deafening roar of 'No!'"

In writing of the country around Suvla Bay the same correspondent
said:

"The country is in fact terrible; the hills are an awful jumble, with
no regular formation, but broken up into valleys, dongas, ravines, and
partly bare sandstone, and partly covered with dense shrub. In places
there are sheer precipices over which it is impossible to climb and
down which a false step may send you sliding several hundreds of
feet."

Finally, deeply illuminating is the official communiqué published in
England on August 26, 1915, regarding the operations in early August.
The most striking paragraphs follow:

"Very severe and continuous fighting, with heavy losses to both sides,
has resulted. Our forces have not yet gained the objectives at which
they were aiming in sphere eight, though they have made a decided
advance toward them and have greatly increased the area in our
possession.

"The attack from Anzac after a series of desperately contested
actions, was carried to the summit of Sari Bair and Chunuk Bair Ridge,
which are the dominating positions on this area, but, owing to the
fact that the attack from Suvla Bay did not make the progress which
was counted upon, the troops from Anzac were not able to maintain
their position in the actual crest, and after repeating
counterattacks, were compelled to withdraw to positions close below
it."

And the communiqué ends up with the significant sentence:

"But these facts must not lead the public to suppose that the true
objective has been gained or that further serious and costly efforts
will not be required before a decisive victory is won."

Picturesque accounts of the fighting by the Australian troops for Sari
Bair on August 6, 7, and 8, 1915, have been written by an eyewitness
of the fighting. Speaking of the few moments before the fighting, he
said:

"Meanwhile the combined Australians and New Zealanders braced for the
desperate night attack that had been decided upon. The men had long
been waiting for this hour to arrive.

"Strict orders were given that not a shot was to be fired; the bayonet
alone was to be used. Exactly at ten o'clock on Friday night a brigade
clambered over their trenches and furiously charged the Turkish line
amid loud cheers, bayoneting all the enemy found therein. The Turks,
taken apparently quite unawares, fired wildly and were unable to check
the advance.

"Thus in a few minutes all the enemy nearest the sea were in our hands
and the way was thus cleared for the main advance. The New Zealanders
stopped only to take breath and then pursued their victorious career,
rushing in succession the old No. 3 outpost, 'Bauchop's Hill,' and
other Turkish positions. The native Maoris entered into the charge
with great dash, making the darkness of the night hideous with their
wild war cries, and striking terror into the hearts of the Turks with
the awful vigor with which they used their bayonets and the butt end
of their rifles.

"The darkness of the night, the broken nature of the ground, and the
shell fire with which the enemy had smothered every available bit of
ground, with his deadly snipers, delayed the main advance somewhat
after these preliminary positions had been successfully rushed, for
every hill and spur had to be picketed to keep down the fire from
lurking marksmen left in the rear of our advancing columns. The
fighting throughout the night was continuous, for amid these gloomy
ravines the Turks offered courageous and despairing resistance to the
Australians, the New Zealanders and Maoris, and many bloody
encounters, the details of which will never be known, were fought in
the dark hours which preceded a still more eventful dawn."




CHAPTER XLIII

AGGRESSIVE TURKISH MOVEMENTS--OPINION IN ENGLAND--CHANGE IN COMMAND


With the withdrawal of the allied troops from Anzac Cove and Suvla
Bay, the Turks were free to concentrate all their forces in the
Gallipoli Peninsula in the south against the British and French forces
that were still intrenched on a line running roughly from Y Beach on
the Ægean Sea to Kereves Dere on the Dardanelles, skirting the slopes
that led up to the town of Krithia and the heights of Achi Baba.

Immediately the Turks began to transfer the guns and men that had been
used against the northern position. Obviously such a transfer in
difficult country with few roads and a restricted front took
considerable time. In the meantime the British and French in front of
Krithia were not inactive. They countered constantly against the
ever-increasing pressure of the enemy. Although few infantry attacks
were engaged in, bomb and mine warfare for the improvement of the
allied positions and the prevention of fresh inroads by the Turks was
an almost constant affair.

Fortunately for the safety and subsequent plans of the Allies, the
Gallipoli Peninsula at that time of the year was rendered most
difficult for offensive fighting. Heavy rains and consequent floods
make the country almost impassable for the movement of big guns or
large bodies of troops in the face of a determined defense.

But while the position of the allied troops in the hills away from the
fringe of coast was becoming desperate, at or near the beaches they
could enjoy practical immunity except from a few long-range Turkish
batteries. The powerful guns of the allied warships so far outranged
and outweighed anything the Turks could bring into the field about
Krithia and Achi Baba that the allied troops could lie sheltered under
their protection.

This fact undoubtedly contributed largely to the astonishing success
of the reembarkation operations here, as it had at the two northern
bases. The chief danger to the allied troops about Krithia was in the
retreat over the few miles that separated them from the embarkation
beaches.

Finally, however, the pressure of the Turks became so heavy that there
was very real apprehension for the safety of the allied troops still
left on the peninsula. Whether or not it was ever intended to maintain
the positions won in the south it is impossible to say at this time.
Some observers were of the opinion that it was England's desire to
construct on the territory in her possession at the entrance to the
Dardanelles a second Gibraltar, commanding at least one end of the
important waterway. German opinion held that it had been agreed
between the Entente Powers in the event of the forcing of the
Dardanelles that the land commanding the waterway was to be divided
among the three countries, each dominating a stretch--probably Russia
in Constantinople, England at the Narrows, and France in between.

However that may be, any intention of hanging on to the territory
captured in the south was soon to be impracticable. By the first of
the year, 1916, the Turks were hotly pressing the allied troops to the
left of Krithia and it became imperative to shorten the line.

Favored by the floods and the fact that, despite the knowledge of the
Turks that a reembarkation had been decided upon, they did not know
exactly when it was to be carried out, the retirement was effected
with small loss. On the nights of January 8-9, 1916, the men were
embarked from the beaches at the north of Sedd-el-Bahr under the guns
of the British and French fleet.

At the last moment it was found impossible to get eleven British guns
away. Reluctantly it was decided to destroy them and they were
rendered useless by the last troops leaving the peninsula. Similarly
the French were compelled to abandon six heavy pieces. Immense stores
were burned and all the buildings, piers, etc., erected by the allied
troops blown up.

While the Allies' offensive was beginning to wane at Gallipoli, an
interesting incident developed at Constantinople which gives some idea
of the high tension existing there at the time. The story is best told
in the original words of Mr. Henry Wood, an American newspaper
correspondent, who in a dispatch dated August 17, 1915, first gave the
news to the New York "World." He wrote:

"The following is the story of the manner in which Mr. Morgenthau, the
American Ambassador, intervened in favor of 2,000 English and French
civilians whom Enver Pasha had decided to expose to the bombardment of
the allied fleet at Gallipoli:

"The decision had not only been taken, but every detail had been
covertly prepared for its carrying out on a Monday morning, when on
the previous evening Mr. Morgenthau learned of it. He at once
telephoned to Enver Pasha and secured from him a promise that women
and children should be spared. A second request, that the execution of
the order be delayed until the following Thursday, was only granted
after the ambassador had assured Enver that it would be the greatest
mistake Turkey had ever made to carry it out without first advising
the powers interested.

"Mr. Morgenthau at once telegraphed to France and England by way of
Washington, and no reply having arrived by Wednesday morning, again
telephoned to the War Minister, insisting on being received in
personal audience.

"'I have not a single moment left vacant until four o'clock, at which
time I must attend a Council of the Ministers,' was the reply.

"'But unless you have received me by four o'clock,' Mr. Morgenthau
replied, 'I will come out and enter the Council of Ministers myself,
when I shall insist upon talking to you.'

"An appointment was therefore granted for three o'clock, and after a
long argument Enver Pasha was persuaded to agree to send only
twenty-five French and twenty-five English to Gallipoli 'as a
demonstration,' the War Minister arguing that any farther retraction
would weaken discipline. It was also agreed to send only the youngest
men, and Bedri Bey, the Constantinople chief of police, was at once
sent for in order that he might be acquainted with the new limitation
of the decision. But he at once protested. 'I don't want to send a lot
of boys down there. I want to send down notables. You have tricked
me,' he declared, turning to the ambassador.

"Next morning the ambassador attended personally to the going aboard
of the twenty-five French and twenty-five English who had been finally
selected. For all that, they knew the original orders to expose them
to the fire of the fleet were to be carried out to the letter, and the
farewell to their friends and relatives at the Golden Horn pier was
one of the most affecting ever enacted at Constantinople. At the last
minute one of the British ministers, who still remained at
Constantinople, volunteered to go along in order that he might offer
spiritual consolation should they eventually face death, and a young
Englishman was released in his place. Mr. Morgenthau insisted that the
party be accompanied by Mr. Hoffman Phillip, First Secretary of the
American Embassy.

"On their arrival at Gallipoli they were imprisoned in two empty
houses and informed that the allied fleet was expected any moment to
resume its bombardment. The city had been under fire for several days,
and was almost completely deserted. No provision had been made for
their subsistence. During the days which followed the fifty men
suffered considerable hardships, but at last orders came from
Constantinople for all fifty to be returned and released."

Meanwhile a curious hardening of public opinion regarding the
Dardanelles was taking place in England, which in the course of time
was destined to have an all-important influence on the operations in
that part of the world. Before the Suvla Bay landing there had been
considerable but mild criticism of the manner in which the whole
affair had been undertaken and carried out. Close upon the early
successes of the naval bombardment there had been an unjustified
public optimism. Then came weeks of pessimism following that black day
when three battleships were sent to the bottom almost at one blow.

Subsequent events and the false color given to them by the official,
but especially the unofficial, accounts served to hearten the British
public for a time. Then came Winston Churchill's famous speech in
which he spoke of Sir Ian Hamilton's forces being "only a few miles
from a great victory," such as would have a determining effect upon
the outcome of the war. This was followed by many absurd but
circumstantial reports that the Dardanelles had actually been forced
but, for some unexplained reasons, the news was being withheld by the
Government.

A little later there came news of the arrival of German submarines off
Gallipoli and of the sinking of two more battleships. This was
followed by unofficial intimation that the major fleet had had to be
withdrawn from the waters about the peninsula and that the forces on
land were in a measure cut off and dependent upon smaller vessels for
naval support and supply.

At this point criticism of the Dardanelles campaign became more
pronounced and daring in many quarters in England. The public was ripe
for it and many openly expressed their regret that it had ever been
entered upon. Then came the Suvla Bay landing, and affairs rapidly
moved to a climax.

The Suvla Bay attempt, like all of the other operations at Gallipoli,
was conceived in a spirit of excessive optimism. It was intended to be
a surprise and the public in England were kept absolutely ignorant of
the preparations, so far as it was possible to prevent a leakage with
thousands of troops being sent out of the country. Even after the
landing and the fighting were well over, little or no news was allowed
to get into the papers. Finally there came a long dispatch from the
United States, which, curiously enough, the British censor passed,
telling of the utter defeat of the Turk, the complete success of the
Suvla Bay maneuver, and intimating that the forcing of the Dardanelles
was now but a question of a few days.

This amazing dispatch, in which there was of course no truth, was
printed in the leading English papers, and a large part of the
unthinking public and even a portion of the more intelligent classes
swallowed it whole. The news came just at the time of the blackest
week of the war up to that time, from the British point of view, when
the Germans were racing to the end of their remarkable drive against
the Russians and the czar's great fortresses were falling like packs
of cards before the furious onslaughts of the Teuton forces.

But with the arrival and publication in England of Sir Ian Hamilton's
account, and the declaration by him that the ends aimed at had not
been achieved, it soon was realized that even this great attempt, upon
which so much had been builded, had failed. Depression became
universal, and there were for the first time responsible demands that
the whole expedition be abandoned.

This question of the total abandonment of the attempt to force the
Dardanelles was a tremendous problem for England. Involved in it was
the great question of her prestige, not only among her millions of
Mohammedan subjects, but also in the Balkans, then rapidly moving to a
decision. Turkey was the only Mohammedan power still boasting
independence, and for Great Britain to acknowledge herself bested in
an attempt to defeat her was likely to have far-reaching and serious
results throughout India and Egypt, where Great Britain's ability to
hold what she had won was dependent in a large measure upon the very
prestige now in danger.

One of the reasons for urging the abandonment of the Dardanelles
campaign was the urgent need for troops elsewhere. It was declared
that it was absurd folly to be wasting troops at Gallipoli when the
western front was being starved for men. Furthermore there were
rapidly accumulating evidences that the Entente Powers were soon to be
compelled to fight on a new and important front.

About this time Germany began her preparations for a final attack upon
Serbia. Try as the Allies might, they had not been able to force an
agreement between Serbia and Bulgaria on the question of the ownership
of those parts of Macedonia won from the Turk in the First Balkan War,
and taken from the Bulgar by the Serbians in the second. Germany,
taking advantage of these irreconcilable differences, was about to
launch a heavy attack from the north upon the kingdom of aged Peter.

In these circumstances there came before the British Government, in
common with the French Government, the question of just how great an
obligation rested on the shoulders of the two great powers. Serbia
certainly looked to them to assist her with all their strength, and at
the height of the agitation Sir Edward Grey made a public declaration
that in every circumstance Serbia could look to England for unlimited
support.

It was when those who knew began to discuss the question of where
Great Britain was to find the military force to make good Grey's
pledge to Serbia that the Dardanelles campaign came in for hot
criticism. It was known that few, if any, fully trained troops were
available in England for a fresh campaign. Indeed, as matters
ultimately worked out, it was France who found the bulk of the force
that was hurried to Saloniki when Bulgaria declared war on Serbia and
joined in the Austro-German attack upon the Balkan kingdom. Later,
under French pressure, England withdrew 40,000 of her troops from the
western front and rushed them off to Saloniki, but much too late to
succor Serbia.

Finally, so powerful became the influences calling upon the Government
to retire from the Dardanelles with as much grace as possible that the
opinion of Sir Ian Hamilton was asked. Probably the inside truth of
the affair will not be known for some years, but it later developed
that there was considerable friction between Sir Ian Hamilton and the
British War Office at the time. Sir Ian, it is known, laid a large
part of blame for the failure at the Strait to the fact that Earl
Kitchener did not send him large reenforcements that were expressly
promised. At any rate he was against a withdrawal from Gallipoli in
the circumstances and in favor of a swift and overwhelming assault
with all the troops and forces that could be gathered. He was still
firmly convinced that the forcing of the Dardanelles was possible and
probable.

Just what were the relations between France and England, and
especially how they each regarded the Dardanelles campaign in the
winter of 1915, it is impossible to say with any degree of assurance.
It is known, however, that there were serious differences of opinion,
not only among the more influential men in both Paris and London, but
between the two Governments.

Obviously, the British were the more reluctant to abandon the project,
which had been entered upon with so much confidence and enthusiasm. It
was distinctly a British operation, although the French Government had
given its unqualified approval at the start and had loyally
contributed all the troops it could spare. But the plans had been
drawn up in London and had been worked out by British commanders; and
the acknowledgment of failure was a confession of British, not French,
incompetency. It was a blow at British prestige such as had not been
dealt since the early disasters of the Boer War.

While the whole question of the Gallipoli campaign was being
reconsidered there occurred something that had a profound effect upon
subsequent events in that part of the war area and elsewhere. The
defeat of the Russians while the French and British troops were
unable, through lack of preparation and foresight, to carry on an
energetic offensive that might have drawn the Germans from their Slav
prey, convinced all the allied Governments that the time had arrived
for a thorough revision of their system of cooperation. In short, if
the war was to be won and each of the Entente Powers was to escape a
separate defeat while the others were doomed to a forced inactivity,
it was necessary that their military, economic, and financial affairs
should be so coordinated and administered that they should be directed
with one object only in view--the winning of the war.

For this purpose representatives of the allied powers met in Paris and
discussed plans. One of the first results of these discussions was to
be seen in the military field. The armies of France and England in the
field became, for all practical purposes, one. The supreme command of
the allied forces in France was placed in the hands of the commander
in chief of the French army.

General French, who had been only nominally under the orders of the
French commander in chief, retired from command of the British army in
France and one of his subordinates, Sir Douglas Haig, took his place.
Similarly, in the southwestern theatre of the war, where Sir Ian
Hamilton was in supreme command, the leadership passed to France,
Hamilton resigning and his place being taken by Sir Charles Monro.
When the British and French troops from Gallipoli were ultimately
landed at Saloniki the supreme command of the allied forces in that
theatre of war was given to General Sarrail of the French army.

Undoubtedly, too, the influence of France, and of Joffre individually,
was thrown into the scales at these Paris meetings against a
continuance of the Dardanelles operations. French public opinion was
strongly in favor of sending immediate succor to the Serbians. So
strong, in fact, was this public opinion that, when the expected help
failed to arrive, it forced the immediate downfall of Delcassé and the
ultimate resignation of the French Cabinet.

Soon after Kitchener returned to London from these Paris conferences a
sensation was caused by the announcement that he was leaving the War
Office temporarily and would undertake an important mission in the
Near East. Ultimately it developed that this important mission was
nothing more nor less than a first-hand examination of the problems
confronting the British commander in withdrawing his force from
Gallipoli and a study of the field into which it was proposed to
transfer, not only these troops, but hundreds of thousands of others.

Probably no high officer of the British army was more fitted for the
mission. Whatever one may think of Kitchener's administration of the
British War Office during a period of unprecedented difficulty, no one
can deny his success in India and Egypt. With those commands had
necessarily gone an exhaustive study of military operations that might
conceivably have to be undertaken for the protection of British
prestige and power in the Mohammedan world.

Thus he was thoroughly at home in the Near East and he brought back to
London an encouraging report. Even high military opinion in England
had been of the opinion that the withdrawal of the allied troops from
Gallipoli could not be effected without terrible losses. Some even
held that it would be better and less costly in human lives to leave
the troops there on the defensive until the end of the war than to
attempt to get them out of the death hole into which they had been
dumped.

This, however, was not Lord Kitchener's idea. He reported that they
could be withdrawn, not, it was true, without heavy losses, but at a
cost much smaller than the general estimate. This conclusion he came
to after an examination on the spot, and subsequent events, as we
shall see, more than justified his judgment in the matter.

Once having made up its mind to risk the loss of prestige involved and
withdraw the army from the Gallipoli Peninsula, the British Government
acted with speed and intelligence. It turned the difficult task over
to General Sir Charles Monro, whose subsequent accomplishment of the
operations earned him the admiration of every military man throughout
the world.

General Sir Charles Monro's job was difficult and dangerous enough for
any man. In the face of an enemy numbering something like 80,000 men,
along a line of 20,000 yards, he had to withdraw an almost equal
number of men with their stores, trucks, ammunition, guns, etc. Only
by the greatest of good fortune could he have the inestimable
advantage of surprise.

Moreover, the enemy had been tremendously encouraged and emboldened by
the successful defense which they had offered to all the allied
assaults of the previous year. Their Mohammedan fanaticism had been
stirred by the Turkish, Austrian, and German press, and their pride
quickened by the thick crop of rumors that the Allies were finally
about to acknowledge defeat.

In many places the French and British trenches were separated by less
than fifty yards from the Turkish defenders. In few cases were they
more than 500 yards distant. Furthermore, the Turkish positions
overlooked the allied troops, being in almost every case on higher
ground. And finally the Suvla Bay and Anzac regions, the points from
which the troops would have to be embarked, were all within artillery
range and often within rifle range of the enemy.

Every effort was made by General Monro and his subordinate officers to
conduct the preparations for the embarkation of the troops in secret.
That is to say the exact day decided upon was kept a secret from all
except the highest officers. For it was not possible to keep from the
Turks entirely the knowledge of a complete withdrawal from the
Gallipoli Peninsula of the allied troops. Too much publicity had been
given to the whole discussion in France and England for that.

Eventually, Monday, December 19, 1915, was decided upon for the
critical operation. With all possible secrecy a great fleet of
transports was gathered at Mudros Bay and, under the protection of
this fleet of warships--the strongest that had approached the
Gallipoli Peninsula since the arrival of the German submarines in the
neighborhood--sailed for Suvla Bay and Anzac Cove.

It had been decided to remove the allied troops from these two bases
before attempting the perhaps more difficult task of getting the force
away from the Krithia region. Indeed, after the troops had been safely
extricated from the northern bases it was officially announced in
London that the Allies would continue to hold the base won in the
south. This proved, however, to be merely in the nature of a literary
demonstration to divert the attention of the none too credulous Turk
from the real purpose of the allied command.

While the fleet of transports and warships was approaching the two
bases under cover of the night, the Australian and New Zealand troops
at Anzac and the British troops at Suvla were hastily preparing for
leaving. Among the colonial troops there was the keenest regret in
thus relinquishing what had been so hardly won at the price of so many
precious lives. To the Australians the operations at Anzac will always
remain one of the greatest, if not the very greatest military feat in
their history. To be sure they fought in numbers and with conspicuous
bravery throughout the Boer War; but Anzac was an operation all their
own, on a scale never before attempted by them as a distinct military
organization. They had won undying fame and unstinted praise from the
highest military authorities, and the success of the operation in that
part of the Gallipoli Peninsula had become a matter affecting their
pride.

[Illustration: Operations at the Dardanelles.]




CHAPTER XLIV

ABANDONMENT OF DARDANELLES--ARMENIAN ATROCITIES


Finally, by midnight of Sunday, all was ready. Just after that hour
the allied troops on shore at Anzac and Suvla Bay could see the dark
forms of the warships and the transports as they dropped anchor close
inshore. If they had listened attentively they might have heard the
soft splash of the hundreds of muffled oars as they slowly propelled
the ships' boats toward the beaches.

On shore preparations were being made to repel a hurricane attack by
the Turks. For it was felt that as soon as the enemy got knowledge of
the contemplated withdrawal they would attack with unprecedented fury.

But, though the British troops waited, the expected attack never came.
Finally, just after three o'clock in the morning, the Australians
exploded a large mine at Russell's Top, between the two systems of
trenches, and made a strong demonstration as if about to initiate a
big offensive. About eight o'clock the last of them were taken off.
Before these last men left they set fire to the stores that it had
been impossible to carry away.

It was only then, apparently, that the Turks awoke to the real
progress of events. Immediately from every Turkish battery a hurricane
of shells was poured into the deserted Allies' base. Those within
range turned their fire upon the allied fleet, now swiftly
disappearing from sight in the thin haze.

Highly significant, as showing the serious state of public opinion in
England during the closing days of the Dardanelles campaign, were the
published statements of E. Ashmead-Bartlett. Ashmead-Bartlett was in
the nature of an official eyewitness of the major part of the
operations at the Strait, although the British War Office took no
responsibility for his opinions or statements. It was at first
intended by the British authorities that there should be no newspaper
correspondents on the spot, but finally, as a concession to the
demands of the united press of Great Britain, it was agreed that one
man should be allowed on the scene and that his dispatches should be
syndicated among the papers sharing the expense of his work.
Ashmead-Bartlett was the man selected for the unique task.

His dispatches from the Dardanelles were censored on the spot and
again in London, so they did not possess much information of direct
value. It was when he returned to London and was in a degree free from
restraint that he wrote frankly. His remarks are quoted in part
because they are the best, perhaps the only, unprejudiced opinion on
the operations from a British point of view.

Writing in the middle of October, 1915, he strongly advised the
abandonment of the campaign, "which," he says, "if it ever had any
hope of success, now is completely robbed of it." In his opinion,
giving up the campaign would not hurt the Allies' prestige in the
Balkans, for the simple reason that their prestige had "been reduced
to nil" by the Foreign Office, loquacious politicians, and faulty
diplomacy.

Speaking of the military operations at the Dardanelles, after paying
the highest tribute to the ability and the courage of the Turks, and
berating the British politicians who interfered with the General
Staff, he said:

"Apart from the question that the conception is of doubtful paternity,
we committed every conceivable blunder in our methods of carrying out
the plan. Few minds were engaged that had any knowledge of the
character of the Turks' fighting qualities and the geography of the
country. Never before in this war has the situation been more serious.

"Our boasted financial stamina in outlasting our opponents is going
fast to ruin in excessive expenditures in enterprises which, if they
ever had any hope of success, now have been finally robbed of all such
hope.

"A good gambler, when he loses much, can afford to stop. He waits for
a turn in his luck and a fresh pack of cards, and clears off for
another table. The mad and headstrong gambler loses everything trying
to recoup, and has nothing left to make a fresh start elsewhere.
Which is England to be, the former or the latter?"

It is natural that the Turkish people should have been jubilant over
the turn of events in Gallipoli and elsewhere. After the series of
defeats during the Balkan War the successes of the Great War against
such redoubtable opponents as France and England were all the more
inspiring. The final success in the Dardanelles had been predicted
some weeks before in the Turkish Parliament, and therefore was not
unexpected. In the last week in October, Halil Bey, president of the
Turkish Chamber of Deputies, declared:

"At the time when the most serious engagements were taking place in
the Dardanelles and in Gallipoli, I was in Berlin. I was there able to
realize personally the feelings of high and sincere admiration
entertained by our allies for the extraordinary bravery with which
terrible attacks were repulsed by our armies. The German nation
publicly congratulated their Government, which, at a time when we were
despised by the smallest nations, was proud to sign an alliance with
us. That alliance carries with it obligations for the distant future,
and unites in a sincere and unshakable friendship three great armies
and three great nations.

"The cannon which thundered on the Danube will soon be heard again in
greater force and will create in the Balkans an important sector in
connection with the war. After the reestablishment of communications,
which will take place within a brief space of time, our army will be
in a better position to fulfill its mission on all the fronts, and in
irresistible fashion. The hopes of the enemy are forever destroyed as
regards Constantinople and its straits, and can never be renewed."

Extremely significant is one of the concluding paragraphs of his
speech in which he foreshadows economic developments after the war. In
view of the Allies' expressed intention of making an effort to boycott
German trade even after the signing of peace terms, the following
words of Halil Bey are illuminating and important:

"The most important result of this war is that from the North Sea to
the Indian Ocean a powerful group will have been created that will be
ever in opposition to English egotism, which has been the cause of the
loss of millions of human lives and of thousands of millions in money,
and will act as a check on Russian pride, French _revanche_, and
Italian treachery. In order to secure this happy result the Turkish
nation will be proud to submit to every sort of sacrifice." The
president concluded his speech by eulogizing the memory of those who
had fallen in the war.

Halil Bey's prediction of the reestablishment of communications with
the Central Powers was not long in being fulfilled. Within two weeks
the Germano-Austrian drive from the Danube had penetrated to Bulgarian
territory opposite the Rumanian frontier, and within another fortnight
it had linked up with the Bulgarian columns in the south operating
against Nish. For all practical purposes Serbia was in their hands,
and the powerful economic group heralded by Halil Bey was in the
process of completion.

There is no doubt that the forging of this strong link with Berlin was
one of the main considerations in inducing the Allies to abandon the
Dardanelles campaign. There were two immensely important reasons why
this should have radically changed conditions in the Gallipoli
Peninsula.

In the first place, there was the question of supplies. There are
three ways in which modern wars on a big scale can be won: by direct
military pressure, by financial pressure, or by economic stress. In
the case of the Allies' offensive against Turkey, after the first
disappointment of the naval military operations, it was confidently
predicted that economic stress would accomplish what military pressure
had failed to do. It was known that Turkey had but meager means of
making good the enormous expenditure of heavy-gun ammunition necessary
in modern battles. Indeed, as early as the big naval attempt to force
the Dardanelles, rumors were heard of a shortage of ammunition in the
Turkish forts, and in this connection it is interesting to print a
report that gained currency at the time of the abandonment of the
Anzac and Suvla Bay bases.

Had the allied fleet returned to its attack upon the Dardanelles
batteries on the day following the great bombardment of March 19,
1915, the waterway to Constantinople would surely have been forced, in
the opinion of several artillery officers of the defense works near
Tchanak-Kalessi expressed to the Associated Press correspondent, who
had just reached Vienna.

One of the principal batteries, it appeared, had for three of its
large caliber guns just four armor-piercing shells each when night
ended the tremendous efforts of the British and French fleet.

For the fourth gun five shells were left, making for the entire
battery a total of seventeen projectiles of the sort which the
aggressors had to fear. What this meant is best understood when it is
considered that the battery in question was the one which had to be
given the widest berth by the allied fleet.

During the evening of March 18, 1915, the correspondent talked with
several artillery officers from this battery.

"Better pack up and be ready to quit at daybreak," said one of them.

"Why?" he asked.

"Oh, they are sure to get in to-morrow!"

Then the officer stated his reasons. He was so certain that the
British and French would return in the morning to finish their task
that there was no question in his mind as to the propriety of
discussing the ammunition matter.

"We'll hold out well enough to make them think that there is no end to
our supply of ammunition," he said, "but it can't be done if they go
about their work in real earnest. With our heavy pieces useless they
can reduce the batteries on the other shore without trouble. The case
looks hopeless. You had better take my advice."

Following the advice thus given, the correspondent rose early next
morning and packed his few belongings, keeping, meanwhile, a watchful
eye on the tower of Kale-Sultanie, where the flag, showing that the
allied fleet was near, was usually hoisted. But the morning passed and
still the danger signal did not appear. Evidently the allied fleet was
not inclined to risk more such losses as those of the previous day,
when the _Bouvet_, _Irresistible_, and _Ocean_ went down and five
other ships were badly damaged. Yet even with the eleven remaining
ships, it appears from the Turkish admissions, the Dardanelles could
have been forced on March 19, 1915.

The correspondent visited several of the batteries during the day. The
damage done the day before was slight indeed, consisting mostly of
large earth displacements from the parapets and traverses. Four guns
were temporarily out of commission, but the general shortage of
ammunition made these pieces negligible quantities anyway.

Although the British information system in this field of operations
was efficient, it must have failed in this instance, for it seems
certain that with seventeen shells the battery in question would have
been easily disposed of, a channel could have been made through the
mine field, and the way to Constantinople would have been open.

All this was realized in the Turkish capital. The court made
arrangements to transfer to Akhissar Anatolia, and the German and
Austro-Hungarian Embassies were ready to leave for this ancient seat
of the Ottoman Government. The families of many German officers in the
Turkish service left Constantinople. In short, everybody understood
that a calamity was pending. What its exact nature was but a few knew.

Whatever truth there may have been in this particular story, there
seems to be little doubt that the Turks were woefully short of
ammunition. During the Balkan War it was reported on good authority
that much of their ammunition was defective. When countries like
France, England, and Russia hopelessly miscalculated the need of
ammunition for modern warfare, it is not asking too much of us to
believe that the Turks suffered in a worse degree.

Without direct or indirect communication with Germany, it is easy to
imagine this condition of affairs getting steadily worse. At the
beginning of the war, there seems to be good evidence, large
quantities of all kinds of munitions and war supplies were rushed from
Germany to Constantinople by way of Rumania and Bulgaria, but it was
not long before the Rumanian Government, either of its own volition or
in the face of threats by the allied powers, refused to permit these
supplies to pass through her territory.

It became evident to the Allies that sooner or later the Germans would
have to make an attempt to link up with the Turks. Thus, from one
point of view, the operations at the Dardanelles became a race against
Germany, with a common objective, Constantinople. Those who laid their
money on the allied horse were confident of winning, figuring that
long before the Germans were free of the French menace on the west and
south and the Russian menace on the east, and so in a position to
undertake an offensive against Serbia, the allied troops would have
forced the Dardanelles, vanquished the Ottoman troops before the gates
of Constantinople, and opened the Strait of the Dardanelles and the
Bosporus.

So it was that when events did not transpire as expected, and the
allied troops were still hanging desperately to their bases on
Gallipoli Peninsula, when the Germans had subdued Serbia, and arrived
in triumph in the capital of the Ottoman Empire via the Berlin to
Constantinople Express, there was no longer any hope of starving the
Turkish guns nor, having even forced the Dardanelles, any certainty of
the capture of Constantinople. In other words, conditions had
radically changed, and, even with better chances of success than were
believed to exist, the game was no longer worth the candle.

The second reason was that, with a neutral Bulgaria, the benefits to
the Allies of a successful offensive in the Dardanelles were obvious.
The forcing of the Strait, a combined naval and land attack upon
Constantinople, the driving of the Turk from Europe, and the insertion
of a firm defensive wedge between the empire of the Sultan and any
possible German offensive from the north, were objectives important
enough to justify almost any expenditure of money, men, and effort the
Allies might have made.

But with the Turkish army linked up with a friendly Bulgaria, and
backed by a strong Austro-German force led by General Mackensen, the
conditions were changed to a state of hopelessness. An allied army
operating on the European side against Constantinople would be
dangerously flanked by the Bulgarian and Austro-Germans and hopelessly
outnumbered if limited to the force the Allies had been able to send
to the southeastern war area.

Just how many men it was possible for Bulgaria and Turkey to put in
the field it is not possible to state definitely. It would be
reasonable to figure that they could by a great effort, after many
months of war, put at least twice their reputed war strength into the
ranks. The larger countries far exceeded such figures. Enver Pasha, at
the end of October, 1915, stated that Turkey had raised a total of
2,000,000 soldiers. Bulgaria, in a case of necessity, might possibly
have added another million, while Germany and Austria, at the time of
the operations against Serbia, demonstrated their ability to supply,
in action and in reserve, another 500,000 for this front.

These are huge figures. There were many reasons why all these troops
could not be used against an allied offensive. It is not meant to
imply, for instance, that an allied offensive on a large scale, based
on Saloniki, is doomed to failure. The figures are quoted simply to
show the military conditions that made an offensive from the
Dardanelles hopeless in the circumstances that obtained at the end of
1915 and that weighed with the military authorities in London and
Paris in deciding upon a withdrawal from the Gallipoli Peninsula.

Probably it will be a long time before the world has any accurate,
adequate idea of the terrible disaster that overtook British prestige
and allied troops in their year's attempt to force the Strait.
Official figures announced by Premier Asquith speak of more than
100,000 troops killed, wounded, or missing, but these total figures
took account of the sick, who reached an extraordinary high total.
Lack of drinking water, the difficulty of keeping the troops supplied
with food, the intense heat, and the fact that the men engaged were
unused to the climatic conditions, combined to lay low thousands upon
thousands of men not mentioned in the restricted casualty lists. An
estimate of another hundred thousand put out of action, temporarily
or permanently, by sickness is not unreasonable.

Thus 200,000 men, six battleships and smaller war vessels, enormous
stores and millions of dollars' worth of ammunitions were the price
Britain paid to discover that the Dardanelles were impregnable even to
British battleships and British endurance. And who shall estimate the
loss of vital prestige, the waste of fine efforts at a time when it
was so much needed elsewhere? Some future historian, with all the
facts in his possession, with the saving perspective that only time
can give, will have a fascinating subject for discussion in this
Dardanelles campaign, destined to go down into history as one of the
most spectacular and daring in the annals of warfare.

It was not until some weeks later that the outside world began to hear
rumors of the dire predicament of the Armenians under Turkish rule. In
their case, as in that of the French and British who were to be sent
to the Dardanelles, Mr. Morgenthau finally intervened with effect.

It had always been recognized that the elements of serious trouble
existed in the districts of Asiatic Turkey populated by the Armenians.
In the days of Sultan Abdul Hamid there had been frequent massacres by
the Turks, following outbreaks of racial and religious strife. The
Armenians had not been easy people to govern, and a constant and deep
hatred existed between them and their rulers.

With the coming of the Young Turks the lot of the unhappy Armenians
had apparently bettered. Indeed, at the time of the outbreak of war,
one of two special European inspectors, specially appointed to watch
over the administration of the six provinces of Asiatic Turkey in
which the Armenians lived, was actually on his way to his post.

Of course the war changed the entire situation and made the position
of the Armenian population a precarious one. All hope of reform for
the moment was banished and the old hatred, of which it was hoped the
world had heard the last, was revived and intensified by the passions
aroused by the entrance of Turkey into the struggle.

Nor were the Armenians content to await their fate. In several
important instances they took matters into their own hands. It was,
perhaps quite natural that many of them, especially those who lived
near the Russian frontier, should sympathize with Russia.

Early in April of 1915, a considerable force of Armenians in the city
of Van collected and resisted the attempts of Turkish gendarmes to
apply the terms of an order banishing certain of their number
suspected of Russian or anti-Turk sympathies. In such force were they
that they actually, with the help of Russian troops, captured the
city.

With the Van revolt Talaat Bey, the powerful Turkish Minister of the
Interior, determined upon a ruthless policy of repression, and it was
largely due to efforts to put that policy in force that there resulted
the subsequent massacre of Armenians that shocked the world. It is
difficult for anyone not in possessions of the actual facts to
apportion an exact measure of blame for these bloody reprisals; and in
the following account, it must be remembered, we are compelled at this
juncture to rely almost entirely upon English and Russian, and
therefore biased, information.

The district covered by the massacre, in which it has been said
1,000,000 Armenians (probably a gross exaggeration) were killed, were
Eastern Anatolia, Cilicia, and the Anti-Taurus regions. It is said
that at Marsovan, where there is an American college, the Armenians
early in June were ordered to meet outside the town. They were
surrounded and 1,200 of their number killed by an infuriated mob.
Thousands of the rest were hurled into northern Mesopotamia.

At Bitlis and Mush, in the Lake Van district, it is reported that
12,000 were killed and several Armenian villages entirely wiped out.

As has been pointed out, the Armenians of some districts did not sit
still and wait to be massacred. At Shaben Karahissar in northeastern
Anatolia, within a hundred miles of Trebizond, the Armenian population
held the town for a short time against Turkish troops. Finally they
were overcome and 4,000 are said to have been killed. At Kharput, a
hundred and twenty-five miles southwest of Erzerum, the Armenians held
the town for a whole week, but were finally overcome by troops and
artillery. In many of the districts the able-bodied men of the
Armenian population have been drafted into the labor battalions for
military work at the front and at the bases. The men too old for this
class of work, and yet suspected of agitating against Turkish rule,
were exiled into districts where their powers for harm would be nil.

It must not be assumed because of these accounts that the Turkish
Government gave its unqualified approval of these massacres.
Undoubtedly Talaat Bey adopted a deliberately ruthless policy in
dealing with all cases of actual or suspected revolt. But it is a far
cry from a systematic, intelligent policy of frightfulness to an
indiscriminate massacre.

Protests against these massacres were not confined to the outside
world. Many influential personages in Turkey openly protested, and in
some notable cases conscientious and brave officials actually refused
to obey the demands of the Constantinople authorities and hand over
Armenian subjects or assist in their exile.

Again in this case, as in that of the proposal of Enver Pasha to send
a large number of allied citizens to the bombardment area of Gallipoli
as a reprisal, it was Mr. Morgenthau, the American Ambassador at
Constantinople, who followed up his protest by real action. He threw
himself heart and soul into the work of softening the lot of the
unfortunate Armenians. Of course he had to move warily in order not to
offend the pride of the Turkish authorities, but working through the
American Consular officials stationed throughout Turkey and through
the American missionaries and teachers working among the Armenian and
Turkish people he undoubtedly saved the lives of thousands of men,
women, and children, while other thousands undoubtedly owe to his zeal
their escape from exile or starvation.

It was due largely to the publicity given to these deplorable
happenings in the American press that the attention of the world was
drawn to Asiatic Turkey and the conditions there, resulting in action
by the Turkish Government that effectively put a stop, for the moment
at least, to the persecution of an unhappy people.




CHAPTER XLV

CAMPAIGN IN CAUCASUS--FALL OF ERZERUM


The fall of 1915 and the early winter of 1915 were periods of feverish
activity behind the lines in the Caucasus. A severe winter held up any
active operations of consequence on the part of either belligerents,
but both knew that with the coming of better conditions their
defensive and offensive organizations would be put to severe tests.

On the part of the Russians the Caucasus front became at the time one
of prime importance. Not excepting even the Balkan frontier, to Russia
the Turkish line was of more importance than any other on which her
army was aligned. In the first place, of all her frontier that running
through the Caucasus promised the best return for the least
expenditure of effort, time, money, and men. Against both Germany, in
the north, and Germany-stiffened Austria in Galicia and the
Carpathians, Russia had had severe reverses. The czar's staff, through
grim experience, realized the tremendous difficulties that confronted
them on these two fronts. Turkey, ill prepared, lacking superlative
military leaders, without organization, and barely recovered from the
terrible effects of the Balkan wars, appeared to be an easy opponent,
comparatively speaking, despite the frightful difficulties of large
military operations in the roadless and railless mountain passes of
the Trans-caucasus.

[Illustration: The Turkish Empire.]

Furthermore, the military pressure was becoming steadily easier on
Russia. The great German drive was drawing to its close. With its
front established in a straight line from just south of Riga on the
north, to the Rumanian frontier on the south, the Austro-German army
decided to abandon the offensive for the time being and be content
with holding that front; and devote its energies to the Serbian and
French theatres of war. This promised to provide a very welcome
breathing spell for Russia, permitting her to reorganize her military
forces, remedy her deplorable shortage of munitions and incidentally
to turn her attentions to the Turks.

Finally, once in the war, the whole of Russian official opinion tended
toward a settlement, once and for all, of her age-long dream of
Constantinople. The consolidation of the Balkans on a Slav,
pro-Russian basis, important as it appeared to be and furnishing the
ostensible causes of the war, was but incidental to the Russian
dominion over and control of Constantinople, the gate to the warm
waters of the Mediterranean.

From the viewpoint of the Entente Powers as a whole there were cogent
reasons why a Russian offensive against the Turkish Caucasus front
would be highly desirable. It would, for instance, relieve the
pressure, not only on the Gallipoli front, but as well on the British
forces in Mesopotamia. In the latter field, of course, Great Britain,
with a miniature army of not more than 40,000, was attempting to reach
Bagdad, but was being hard pressed by the Ottoman forces. Furthermore,
an eventual junction of the Russian columns from the Caucasus and the
British troops from the Persian Gulf, and the establishment of an
impregnable line, would provide against any future drive of a
German-Austro-Turkish army toward India.

These, then, were the considerations that influenced the preparations
for a resumption of the Russian offensive against Erzerum and beyond,
which had been more or less quiescent since the smashing defeat of the
Turkish army on the frontier in December, 1914.

Undoubtedly this state of affairs had much to do with the transfer of
the Grand Duke Nicholas to the Caucasus command when it became
apparent that the German offensive in the north was nearing its
finish. With masterly skill the Russian commander in chief had
withdrawn his huge army in the face of a victorious and highly
efficient enemy, not, to be sure, without serious losses, but
certainly without permitting his long front to be really broken or his
forces utterly defeated. It was felt in Russia that he, of all men
developed by the war, was the one to organize and initiate the
proposed operations in the Caucasus.

It was early in the month of September, 1915, September 5 to be
precise, that the czar issued his famous order relieving the Grand
Duke Nicholas of his command in the north and transferring him to the
Caucasus. Taking with him a number of the higher officers who had been
with him through the trying months on the Warsaw front, the Grand Duke
Nicholas immediately journeyed south and took over the command of the
Russian forces in that theatre of war.

It was not long before there were to be seen many evidences of the
arrival of a commander with energy and determination. Despite the
lamentable shortage of munitions known to exist in Russia, guns,
shells, rifles, provisions, and stores of all kinds were rapidly
accumulated at the main Caucasus base and from there distributed to
the points along the line of advance into Turkey. Many of these
supplies of all kinds, provisions as well as munitions of war, came
from the United States by way of the Siberian port of Vladivostok and
even by way of Archangel, although that port was, in most cases,
reserved for British shipments. From Vladivostok the American
shipments were carried over the 6,000 miles of the great
Trans-Siberian railway to Petrograd and from there continued on their
long and slow journey to the Caucasus front.

Among the endless stream of supplies were many special and ingenious
conveyances for transporting guns, provisions, and soldiers over the
otherwise impassable snows of this terrible region. It was necessary,
to insure success, that by some means hitherto unknown to military
transportation guns weighing tons should be moved about the trackless,
roadless country almost like playthings. Only thus could a commander
hope to secure that preponderance of heavy gunfire without which the
modern offensive is doomed to defeat or stalemate.

By the beginning of February, 1916, all was ready for the Russian
advance upon Erzerum. To begin with, the Turks were known to be
busily occupied in other fields. The British forces in Mesopotamia,
although held up at Kut-el-Amara, and known to be in sore straits,
were in daily expectation of strong reenforcements. The campaign
against Bagdad, which had been originally undertaken by the Indian
army, had proved too big a task for that relatively small
organization, and the conduct of that campaign was taken over by the
imperial military authorities in Great Britain, who have larger
militant forces at their disposal than those possessed by the Indian
Government.

Aside from this fear of strong reenforcements, the Turkish commanders
were straining every effort to capture the British force shut up in
Kut-el-Amara, and thus secure a great victory that could not fail to
have far-reaching military and political effects both in Turkey and
throughout the whole warring world. For this reason every unit of
troops that could be possibly spared from other fields was rushed to
Bagdad and thrown into the field against General Townshend's sorely
pressed command awaiting relief at Kut-el-Amara.

Furthermore, although the pressure on the Gallipoli front had been
relaxed through the practical abandonment by the allied troops of the
attempt to force the Dardanelles, with the entrance of the Bulgarians
into the war and the prosecution of the offensive against Serbia a new
need had been found for Turkish troops. For the Bulgarian and Serbian
development had brought the Allies in ever-increasing strength to
Saloniki. The Allies at the Greek port were a constant potential
menace to Turkey, as well as to Bulgaria, and through the Entente
press were running constant rumors of a coming offensive directed at
Constantinople "through the back door," as it was called.

To be sure the allied forces at Saloniki, beyond a half-hearted
effort, with but a fraction of their numbers to assist the escape of
the Serbian army from the menace of the Austro-German-Bulgarian
pincers that threatened it on three sides, had made no move to carry
the war to the Bulgarian or Turkish enemy. Yet Turkey found it
necessary to keep constantly at Constantinople, or in the country
immediately to the north and in close touch with the Bulgarian forces,
an army estimated at at least 200,000 men.

In other words, the Turkish General Staff could withdraw few if any of
the men concentrated about Constantinople at the beginning of the war
to fill the enormous gaps made in her line on other fronts. Indeed,
she had need to add to them to offset the extraordinary number of men
who were constantly being poured into Saloniki by France and England
until, in the early spring, their total was variously estimated at
from 250,000 to 350,000 men of all services.

It was in these circumstances, then, that the Grand Duke Nicholas
ordered the advance upon Erzerum. They go far to explain the events of
the subsequent few weeks in and about the great Turkish Caucasian
fortress town.

Russian forces had, during the three months immediately preceding the
big offensive, prepared the way by the capture of points from which
the grand attack was to be launched. In command of the czar's troops
was General Judenich, although the Grand Duke Nicholas was officially
responsible for operations on this front. General Judenich had devoted
years of his life to a study of the special problems attending an
offensive in the Kars-Erzerum regions and carried through his task
with a skill and an expedition that have hardly their equal in the
history of the war.

The advance of the Russian forces upon Erzerum was made from three
points. It is well for the reader to keep this constantly in mind. It
was an application of the principle of the pincers, combined with a
great frontal attack, used so often and so successfully by the Germans
in their Russian drive. It adds tremendously to the difficulties of a
commander battling to defend a big position. Nowadays, under the new
conditions of warfare, fortresses or other positions are not defended
to the end. They are held just as long as it is safe for the army
within to hold out. But a commander must on no account endanger his
force. Discretion is more than ever the better part of valor, and "he
who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day," is the guiding
principle of the general of modern times.

Now this triple menace, striking not only on the front but on both
sides and menacing the roads by which a defeated army must retreat,
seriously weakens the defense which an army within a fortress can
make. It was just such an operation or series of operations that
carried the tremendously strong fortress of Antwerp in record time,
that accounted for the surprising fall of Namur in two days, and that
explains the rapidity with which a score of almost impregnable Russian
fortresses in Poland fell before the rush of the German avalanche.

The triple Russian thrust at Erzerum was made from Olty, which had
been captured as far back as August 3, 1915, along the Kars-Erzerum
road by way of Sarikamish, the scene of the great Turkish defeat of
the early days of the war, and from Melazghert and Khynysskala.

Erzerum was undoubtedly one of the strongest positions in the Turkish
Empire, although the experience of the war had tended to detract from
previous confidence in the strength of old-style concrete forts when
attacked by concentrated big-gun bombardment. Opinions differ on the
question of whether or not the Erzerum armament had been maintained up
to a modern standard. But as regards the number of its guns, and the
size and number of its individual forts, there are no two opinions.

Its eighteen separate positions encircling the city in two rings,
defended by concrete forts, would, under ordinary conditions, have
made it virtually impregnable. One count mentions as many as 467 big
guns in the outer forts, 374 in the inner forts, and 200 more or less
mobile fieldpieces scattered about the country intervening. Although
this was an early Russian report, issued in the delirium of national
joy that followed the capture of the fortress, and should be
considerably discounted, nevertheless, Erzerum boasted a plentiful
supply of big guns, few if any of which were taken away by the fleeing
Turkish army, although the majority of them were probably rendered
useless at the last moment. According to Entente information, among
these guns were 300 of the very latest pattern Krupp pieces, but on
the other hand, according to German information, the fortress boasted
no guns less than twenty years old. Arguing from the known shortage of
big guns in Turkey and the fact that of late years other fronts have
been of prime importance and have undoubtedly received what fresh
ordnance the army was able to purchase and secure, it does not seem
likely that much modern equipment was found in the Caucasus fortress
by the Russian victors.

Quickly the three Russian forces converged upon Erzerum. Finally,
driving outlying Turkish forces before them, in the second week of
February, 1916, they were in touch with the outer defenses of the
great fortress. It was rumored at this time that both Von der Goltz
and Liman von Sanders, the two high German commanders, lent by the
kaiser to Turkey, were in Erzerum superintending the defense and,
furthermore, that huge Turkish reenforcements were covering the 200
miles from the nearest railway head by forced marches in an effort to
arrive at the fortress and prevent its encircling and isolation by the
Russians. Both of these reports, however, ultimately were proved to be
figments of the active imaginations of local correspondents.

The Turkish plan of campaign for the defense of Erzerum, according to
official Russian sources, was as follows: The Third Army Corps, which
had been ordered up to replace the losses in the Caucasus front of the
previous nine months, was moved out of Erzerum and took up a position
between that town and the Russian front. The Ninth and Tenth Corps
moved out toward Olty to form an offensive ring, while the Eleventh
Corps was to hold the Russian offensive on the Kars-Erzerum road. In
case the Russians in the last named region were too strong for the
Eleventh Corps to hold, it was to fall back slowly on the fortress of
Erzerum, drawing the army of the Grand Duke Nicholas with it. When
this movement had progressed sufficiently, the Ninth and Tenth Corps
were to attack energetically on the flank.

Unfortunately for the success of this plan, although the Eleventh
Corps performed its function and drew the Russian army with it in its
retreat toward Erzerum, the Ninth and Tenth Corps suffered a reverse
and were compelled to fall back also. Similarly, the Third Corps was
compelled to yield before superior numbers and barely escaped
envelopment.

Naturally, there is considerable difference of opinion as to the
question of numbers involved in these operations. It seems to be
fairly well established, however, that the Russians used, roughly,
eight army corps, or slightly more than 300,000 men. Eight corps are
known to have been at the disposal of the grand duke, but a small
portion of his force was at the same time engaged in an expedition
into northern Persia, so that the round figures given would seem to be
conservative.

Although but four Turkish corps are mentioned, it is known that the
Ottoman command had at its disposal considerable numbers of Kurds,
Persians, Arabs, and other irregular troops, as well as several units
not specifically mentioned in the official accounts. Thus the estimate
of 180,000 to 200,000 men would not seem to be out of the way.

While the thrusts from the northeast and southeast were fighting their
way toward the flanks of Erzerum, the Russian troops advancing along
the Kars-Erzerum road, driving the Eleventh Corps before them, made a
fierce frontal assault upon the outer forts of the town.

In this connection it would be well to examine more minutely the
conditions that confronted the Russian commander. Erzerum is situated
on a plateau some 6,000 feet above sea level, and the key forts had
been placed on high ground commanding the surrounding country. However
well the Russian transport department had done its work, the Russian
supply of heavy artillery could not have been overwhelming in the
sense that heavy guns were overwhelming on other fronts. There could,
therefore, have been no condition of affairs where the infantry was
called upon simply to occupy positions previously shattered by
gunfire. Indeed, the best opinions agree that little or no real damage
was done by the artillery to the Erzerum forts and that the infantry
had to advance against practically intact defenses. Yet, after five
days of fierce assault, the hardy Siberian troops of General
Judenich's army carried nine of the outlying forts and forced the
evacuation of the entire fortress.

There can be but one explanation of this astonishing result. It is
hardly possible for any troops to take a position like Erzerum by
direct assault. The fortress successfully resisted all Russian
attempts to capture it in the Russo-Turkish War, although then far
less strong than in 1916. Some foreign military critics have tried to
explain the puzzling facts by claiming that the well-known bravery
and tenacity of the Turk on defense, shown all through his history and
never more evident than in the Gallipoli campaign, was, for some
unknown reason, totally lacking at Erzerum. Such claims, however, do
not hold water.

Erzerum was evacuated simply because of a menace to the Turkish lines
of communication and the danger of isolation. However well provisioned
the fortress might have been--and its stores were vast, for it was the
chief supply and provisioning center for the whole Turkish military
organization in Asia Minor--it could not hope to withstand an
indefinite siege. The Turkish high command would not view with
equanimity the bottling up of close upon 200,000 of its first-line
troops. With the example of Przemysl, and Metz in 1870 in its mind, it
decided upon a, perhaps, temporary abandonment of the position
immediately it became apparent that the Russian advance from the
northeast and southeast could not be successfully opposed by the
troops available.

Furthermore, the defense of the fortress was weakened by the condition
of the country over which the Turkish army had to retreat in any
retirement from Erzerum. It is no simple matter to transport a
defeated army, with its supplies, enormous guns, ammunition, and other
impedimenta, even with an efficient railway organization at its back.
It is comparatively easy, then, to imagine some of the difficulties
that confronted the Turkish command. From Erzerum to the nearest
railhead is something like 200 miles. A blinding snowstorm was raging
and the temperature was hovering around 25 degrees below zero. Few
roads, and those almost impassable at that season of the year, must
supply all the needs of scores of thousands of men and thousands of
animals, carts, trucks, guns, carriages, etc.

[Illustration: The Russian Advance on Turkey in Armenia.]

The retreat of the Turkish forces from Erzerum, resembling a rout in
its inevitable haste and confusion, had to be made in the face of a
victorious enemy and, menaced by superior forces on both flanks, under
terrific weather conditions and through roadless and highly broken
country. After a preliminary artillery bombardment of the Turkish
forts on the southeast front of the city, the Russian infantry began
to assault Fort Kara Gubek. Finally this was carried and then fell
in quick succession Forts Tafta and Chobandede, six miles south on the
commanding and important Deyer Boyum Heights. By February 15, 1916,
the Russians were masters of the city and fortress.

At first it was supposed in the allied countries that the Turkish army
had been trapped in the fortress and more or less authoritative
accounts spoke of the surrender of 180,000 Turkish troops. These
accounts were circumstantial enough. Several days before the news of
the fall of Erzerum came through there appeared stories of the
envelopment of the city. It soon became known, however, that less than
17,000 troops had been taken with the abandoned forts--merely a rear
guard left behind to delay the onward sweep of the Russians and give
the retreating Turkish army a chance to put a few miles between it and
its pursuers.

If the country to the west of Erzerum was rugged and difficult for the
retiring Turk, it also followed that it was not only difficult for the
pursuing Russians, but also offered many opportunities for a stern
resistance. Thus it was not astonishing to learn that the Russians had
little chance of following up their success at Erzerum. The Turkish
army, largely intact, made good its escape across Armenia, followed by
the troops of the Grand Duke Nicholas, much to the chagrin of allied
public opinion, which had hoped for a smashing victory such as the
fall of Przemysl, or Metz in 1870, or Plevna in 1877.

The grand duke decided to advance with the right of his army on
Trebizond, the Turkish supply base on the Black Sea. Turkey was known
to be hurrying reenforcements to this town in the hope of preventing
its capture by the Russians. It became a race across difficult country
and, although Petrograd and London reports confidently predicted the
success of the Russians, in the end the Turks were able to bring up
strong enough forces to prevent its capture, for the time being at
least.

It is difficult to measure with any accuracy the political results of
the success of the Russians at Erzerum, for the political results far
outweighed the military. In a general way it can be said that it had
little or no effect upon the Balkans, and upon Mohammedan opinion
throughout the East, merely serving to offset in a small measure the
effects of the allied withdrawal from the Dardanelles. On the other
hand, it had a tremendously important effect upon the situation in
Persia. In that kingdom, just prior to the Russian offensive, there
were many evidences that affairs were ripe for a rising of the local
tribes against the Russians in occupation of the northern zone of
influence. Indeed, at the very time the grand duke gave his orders for
the advance upon Erzerum he was compelled to detach troops for
operations in Persia. This force advanced against a body numbering
about 2,000, made up of Turks, Persians, and some Germans, and
finally, after some small fighting, occupied the Persian towns of
Hamadan, Kurn, and Kermanshah.

Even with these successes there was great difficulty in controlling
the Persians, who had gained courage through the defeat of the British
in Mesopotamia and in Gallipoli. However, the capture of Erzerum and
the rout of the Turks had a quieting effect, for the time being at
least.




PART IX--ITALY IN THE WAR




CHAPTER XLVI

REVIEW OF PRECEDING OPERATIONS--ITALIAN MOVEMENTS


A retrospect of the Austro-Italian struggle, taken from the vantage
point afforded by nine months of fighting, revealed what was intended
to be a campaign of invasion as developing all the characteristics of
trench warfare. Following shortly on the declaration of war by Italy,
General Cadorna deployed the whole of the Italian Third Army on the
right bank of the Isonzo between Tolmino and Monfalcone, and carried
out a vigorous offensive in order to gain a secure footing on the left
bank--an antecedent condition to further operations eastward. Italian
troops crossed the river at five different points, Caporetto, Plava,
Castelnuovo, Gradisca, and Monfalcone. Considering the immense
strength of the Austrian defenses this was considered a good start.
Along the thirty-mile front from Tolmino to the sea there is a
continuous wall of defensive works, flanked on the north by the
fortified position of Tolmino, and on the south by the formidable
Carso Plateau, while Gorizia constitutes the central Austrian _point
d'appui_, having been converted into a modern fortress with a girdle
of exterior forts supplemented by advanced batteries provided by
armored cars on which the latest types of howitzers are mounted. All
that military science could do to render this iron barrier impregnable
had been done, and the Italians from the first had a hard struggle in
their attacks on it.

While regular siege operations were being carried on against Tolmino
and Gorizia, the Italians were putting forth great efforts to secure
possession of the Carso Plateau, which dominates the rail and carriage
road between Monfalcone and Trieste, as well as the Isonzo Valley up
to Gorizia. The plateau had to be completely occupied before any
advance could be made along the coast road into Istria and before
Gorizia could be attacked from the south. Two months after the
declaration of war the Italians, who by that time were in possession
of the bridgehead at Sagrada, stormed with great gallantry several
lines of trenches on the summit of the western face of the plateau,
and captured two thousand prisoners with a large quantity of war
material. They followed up this success by an infantry attack,
supported by a large number of heavy and field guns. Farther north
another army operated against Tarvis along two routes, one of which
goes over the Pontafel Pass and is traversed by the railroad running
between Vienna and Venice, while the other is a coach road leading
from Plezzo over the Predil Pass to the Save Valley. The progress of
the Italian columns was checked at Malborgeth, where the Austrians had
constructed a chain of permanent forts, while along the coach road an
equally strong group of forts covering the Predil Pass blocked the
way. A further offensive was directed across the Carnic Alps by way of
the Kreuzberg Pass down the Seoten Valley to Innichen and Toblach on
the Pusterthal railway. Formidable works had been constructed at
Seoten and Lambeo, covering the approaches to the railroad, and on
these the Italians opened a furious bombardment for the purpose of
clearing a way into the Drave Valley. The object aimed at here was
very clear to the Austrians, for when the railroad was reached
communication along the Pusterthal between the Adige and Isonzo would
be cut, and the Austrian position on the Trentino turned. This was the
position in August, 1915, when the Italians were exerting pressure on
the Austrians for the further purpose of diverting troops from the
Russian frontier, where was being carried on the greatest offensive
known to history.

During August, 1915, a continuous night and day battle was waged on
the Isonzo frontier for the possession of the Carso Plateau. Gorizia,
with its circle of outlying forts, proved itself practically
unavailable from either the north or west, for two fortified heights,
Monte Sabatino, on the right bank, and Monte Gabrielle on the left
bank, of the Isonzo River, stood sentry over the town on the north,
while the plateau of Podgora, which is a perfect labyrinth of deep,
intercommunicating trenches, barred the approach to the town from the
west. A determined and carefully prepared attack was made by a large
Italian force on Podgora, but though ten regiments were sent against
the position they failed to get through. In another movement the
troops of General Cadorna were successful in obtaining a firm footing
on the western face of the Carso Plateau, occupying Sdraissima,
Polazzo, Vermegbano, and Monte Sei Bussi, which overlooks Monfalcone.
Finding, however, that the Austrians had been strongly reenforced,
General Cadorna abandoned his storming tactics, and began advancing
along the plateau by the slower methods of siege operations. From the
beginning, both Italians and Austrians recognized the Carso Plateau as
the key to Gorizia, and around it have been waged some of the
bitterest conflicts of the war.

During September, 1915, General Cadorna was able to report progress
all along the front occupied, and especially on the Trentino frontier,
where Italian troops moved along the three main routes which converge
on the Adige Valley from the Italian plain. The route taken was
through the Val Giudicaria on the western face of the Trentino
salient, up the Adige on the south side, and along the Val Sugano on
the eastern front. The Val Giudicaria is the highway into the Tyrol
from Brescia, and on either side of it are fortified positions nearly
the whole way to Trent. During the first week of the war the Italians,
taking the Austrians by surprise, seized Condino by a coup de main,
and compelled the Austrian garrison to fall back on the second line of
defense higher up the valley. Then the Italian troops began to secure
the position gained by constructing defensive works covering the road
approaches to Brescia, and linking these up with other defensive
positions extending along the entire front from the Stelvio pass to
Lake Garda. Simultaneously with the occupation of Condino, an Italian
force, based on Verona, moved up both banks of the Adige, crossed the
Austrian frontier near Borghetto, and seized Ala with hardly any
opposition. Continuing their offensive the Italians then seized Monte
Altissimo and its northern spurs, which command the railroad between
Riva and Rovereto, and at the same time occupied the important
position of Gori Zugra, which is four miles north of Ala, and flanks
the Rovereto road. From there on advance was subsequently made to
Pozzachio, an unfinished fort eight miles from Rovereto, which was
abandoned by the Austrians as soon as the Italian offensive began to
develop. Another force then moved up the Val Astico from Asiero, and
succeeded in storming the Austrian positions on Monte Maronia, whence
the Italians threatened the main defenses of Rovereto on the
Lavaone-Folgaria Plateau. Rovereto is at the junction of three
mountain roads leading into Italy in this locality, and has a
strategical importance second only to that of Trent. Its occupation
was recognized from the start as a necessary preliminary to advanced
operations up the Adige. The third Italian column, directed against
Trent, moved up the Brenta along the Val Sugana, and in September,
1915, its advanced guards, operating right and left of the valley,
reached Monte Salubion on the north and Monte Armenderia on the south
of Borgo. These heights command the town of Borgo, but as the
inhabitants are all Italians, the place was not occupied lest this
should lead to its bombardment by the Austrian artillery. The Austrian
commander, however, did not spare the town, which had been repeatedly
bombarded by the guns north of Ronegno. Borgo is only eighteen miles
from Trent and its investment by Italian troops brought them almost
within striking distance of the great Tyrol fortress.

During November and December, 1915, a series of most desperate
attempts were made by the troops under General Cadorna to storm the
bridgehead of Gorizia and establish a firm footing on the Doberdo
Plateau. This plateau, which acts as the citadel for the more extended
position of the Carso, rises from 350 to 650 feet above the level of
the valley, and dominates all the approaches to Gorizia. Monte San
Michele, which is a ridge on the north side of the plateau, and rises
in one place to 900 feet above sea level, is the key to the whole
position; and round it there was a continuous sanguinary hand-to-hand
fight, the Italians sometimes gaining the advantage, and at other
times the Austrians. Against this position General Cadorna
concentrated 1,500 guns, some of them 14-and 15-inch howitzers, and
naval guns. A tremendous artillery duel, interspersed with infantry
attacks, thus set in, and for a long time the fate of Gorizia trembled
in the balance. But the advantage of position and the systematic
preparation of long years told heavily on the side of the Austrians,
who had defended the town with a determination and courage equal to
that of their adversaries. General Boroevich had all along had general
charge of the Isonzo defenses, while the Archduke Joseph, who held the
Dukla Pass for so many weeks against the Russian attacks, succeeded to
the command of the corps holding the Doberdo Plateau. Meanwhile the
Italian troops were achieving successes elsewhere. They occupied
during the month of November, 1915, Bezzecea in the Ledro Valley, and
took possession of Col di Lava (8,085 feet) in the Dolomite district.

This was roughly the position from the military point of view on the
various Austro-Italian fronts toward the close of the year, when the
obstacles facing the Italian forces began to be appreciated by the
outside world. It was by that time generally recognized that, though
the Italians outnumbered the Austro-Hungarian troops, and but few
reserves were available to reenforce General Boroevich, the Austrian
defenses were enormously strong, and could only be captured after a
heavy sacrifice of life and an unlimited expenditure of artillery
ammunition. No mere study of the map can convey any true idea of the
difficulties to be overcome before the Austrian positions in the
Dolomites and Carnic Alps could be captured. For such a survey could
give no indication of the huge guns mounted on the very summit of
snow-clad peaks, or the lines of armored trenches stretching
uninterruptedly from the Stelvio to the Isonzo. In the mountain
warfare that had to be undertaken amidst the terrific heights,
progress by either side could all but be reckoned by yards. The
convoys had to plod up and down precipitous mountain sides. Instead of
the fighting taking place in valleys and passes, as many thought, the
positions and even the trenches were revealed as frequently on the
very summits of almost inaccessible peaks and crags, often above the
snow line. At high altitudes the few observers admitted on either side
saw artillery of a caliber usually associated with defensive works at
sea level. The intrepidity required in operations over such a terrain
is illustrated by the Italian capture of Monte Vero, when a battalion
of Alpini ascended barefooted the precipitous face of the mountain in
the middle of the night and stormed the Austrian position on the
summit. In such enterprises youth and enthusiasm were found the best
assets. The Alpine troops of Italy are recruited from mountain
populations, whose hearts and lungs, accustomed to high altitudes, can
well bear the strain of mountain fighting.

On the lower Isonzo front the character of the operations has somewhat
recalled the aspect of the fighting area and the troop movements in
France. Here low foothills and undulating plains predominate. There
was on the Isonzo front, however, an absence of the horrors of war in
the shape of devastated towns, villages, and countryside, with which
the world has become familiar in illustrations from Belgium and
northern France.

Over no field of operations was the veil of official secrecy more
securely held than over the events proceeding on the Austro-Italian
front. Newspaper men were rigorously excluded from the area over which
martial law prevailed and the official communiqués seldom erred on the
side of perspicuity. This procedure gave rise to a widespread
impression that the Italian forces had been largely marking time. The
brilliant dash into the Isonzo Valley and the capture of Austrian
positions in the Trentino which were chronicled during the months of
June and July, 1915, marked an advance which was not equaled by any
achievements in the months that followed. Nevertheless, a detailed
study of the changes in position during that time show that the
Italians were drilling their path forward with unflagging
determination.




CHAPTER XLVII

ITALY'S RELATIONS TO THE OTHER WARRING NATIONS


Meanwhile, events of a most startling character were taking place
close to the Italian frontier, every one of them big with consequence
to Italy's vital interests. The conquest of Serbia by the forces of
Germany and Austria-Hungary under General von Mackensen was begun and
completed in two months. On October 14, 1915, Bulgaria declared war
against the Allies and immediately attacked Serbia from the south,
cooperating with the Austro-German forces with whom direct
communication was established toward the end of November, 1915. A
belated French-British expedition landed at Saloniki for the purpose
of lending aid to harassed Serbia, but the forces, which were united
under the command of the French General, Sarrail, were capable of
achieving little. After coming into contact with the Bulgarians they
began on November 27, 1915, to retire to their base at Saloniki, with
Irish troops covering their retreat. The conquest of Montenegro
followed that of Serbia. The much-coveted strategic position of Mount
Lovcen, commanding the Bocca di Cattaro, was captured by the Austrians
on January 10, 1916, while the capital, Cettinje, was likewise
occupied three days later. Farther east, the ill-starred Dardanelles
venture was coming to a disastrous end. Evacuation of the Gallipoli
Peninsula by the forces of Britain and France began in December, 1915,
the last soldiers of these two powers leaving Sedd-el-Bahr on January
7, 1916.

It was expected that Italy would take a prominent part in the series
of events which had taken place on these various fields. More than
once the message was sent round the world that a well-equipped Italian
expedition had left for the Dardanelles. It was considered certain
that Italy would lend her assistance to the forces landed at Saloniki,
and thus aid in preventing the overrunning of Montenegro, which could
not but constitute a direct menace to herself. Apart from the landing
of a number of troops at Avlona in Albania, Italy kept aloof. This
rigid abstinence, coupled with the appearance of deadlock on Italy's
two main frontiers, set in motion an undercurrent of criticism among
the friends of the Allies. A further source of uncertainty was found
in the relations still maintained between Italy and Germany. "Why did
not Italy declare war against Germany as well as against Austria?" was
a query that was continually put. In the face of this attitude of
doubt the Italian Government still continued what it considered its
sound and well-matured policy of concentrating its forces for the
protection of its own frontiers against Austria, and looking on every
other enemy as secondary.

As regards the Balkans, it has to be recalled that it was Italy who
first suggested that Serbia receive the assistance of the Allies
against the superior Austrian forces. This suggestion was at that
early time taken into but slight consideration by France and Great
Britain. A battery or two was lent to Serbia by Great Britain, but
little more was done until the spectacle of invasion became imminent.
While Italy recognized that her interests were of a paramount
character in the Balkans, she was convinced that the war would be
decided in the main theatre, and not on any of the side theatres that
Germany might decide to choose. Nor was Italy under any
misapprehension as to what would be her fate were the Austrians to
succeed in breaking through the lines of defense on her northern
frontier. These considerations decided her against participating in
any over-sea adventure unless she was absolutely compelled to do so.

Italy's interest in the problem as to who was to dominate
Constantinople and the Dardanelles was less than that of either
England or Russia. The apologists of her policy of abstention
maintained, indeed, that jealousy of Russia was Great Britain's main
motive in deciding on the expedition to Gallipoli. Italy had a more
important work to do than to lend her aid in playing off one ally
against another. Any aid given to that expedition had, necessarily, to
be of a comprehensive character if success was to be achieved. This
would have meant a serious depletion of the Italian forces and might
have opened up a way that would have enabled the enemy to strike at
the very heart of Italy.

When the possibility of Bulgaria taking the side of the Central Powers
loomed into the domain of actuality, Italy with her nearer intuition
in Balkan affairs called attention to the impending denouement. In
this she was seconded by Serbia, who asked the aid of the Allies in
striking a blow which would have prevented what proved from the allied
point of view to be a calamity. Italy's suggestion was that Sofia be
at once occupied before Bulgarian mobilization could be got under way.
The policy of hoping against hope took the place of energetic action.
Then action on the part of the Allies followed when the blow had
fallen. Yet Italy knew that Serbia was doomed the moment Bulgaria
declared war.

Bitter as the admission might be to Italy, it was convinced that
Montenegro was in the like case with Serbia. Montenegro had as little
hope of coping with the combined forces of Germany, Austria, and
Bulgaria as Serbia. A mere consideration of the alternative plans of
rendering aid to her small neighbors revealed the most promising of
them as entailing a useless sacrifice. It would have meant the taking
over-sea of some hundreds of thousands of men and large guns during
the worst period of the year. The passage to the Montenegrin port of
Antivari would have required the protection of the entire Italian
navy, thus leaving the coasts of Italy exposed to the attacks of the
enemy. And what would have been the main purpose of the expedition? To
save the celebrated Mount Lovcen, which indeed dominates the Bocca di
Cattaro, but does not dominate the Bocca di Teodo, where at the time
of the combined attacks of Montenegrins and French from Mount Lovcen
months before, and of the French and English from the sea, the
Austrian navy was safely sheltered. What Italy could wisely do she did
so. She succored the retreating Serbian and Montenegrin soldiers, gave
them food, clothing, and shelter, and brought them in safety to the
different places to which they had been assigned.

Even before hostilities commenced between Italy and Austria the
Italian Government accomplished a _tour de force_. Against the tacit
opposition of Austria she transported a considerable body of troops to
the port of Avlona, which, with Brindisi, commands the entrance to the
Adriatic. A glance at the map will immediately reveal the vital
importance of this strategic position as a base for expeditionary
forces in Albania and the Balkans, while its naval possibilities make
it inferior to no port on the Adriatic. The fly in the ointment was
in the Austrian hold on the Bocca di Cattaro. Thence Austrian
submarines could menace Italian shipping, even though no Austrian
surface craft dare approach the Strait of Otranto. To this has to be
added the further peril arising from the strong current that is
supposed to descend from the head of the Adriatic. While transporting
troops from Brindisi to Avlona, more than one Italian vessel fell
victim to floating mines borne down by this current.

Such in general outline was Italy's position at the end of the year
1915, and such the tenor of those who sought to vindicate her policy
in the Balkans and elsewhere. It was maintained by Italian publicists
that the Italian fleet had fought with the fleets of France and
England on several occasions against the Turks. It was pointed out
that that fleet was on continual patrol duty in the Mediterranean with
those of the Allies. Italian troops had also been landed with French
troops on the island of Corfu, and, according to report, had
cooperated to some extent with British troops in Egypt and North
Africa. Nevertheless, political and military reasons all combined to
make the Austro-Italian frontier the one battle ground where Italy
could hope for an enduring victory and fight for it with all her
strength.

In regard to the absence of a declaration of war between Germany and
Italy, the attitude of the Government of King Victor Emmanuel was thus
explained: First of all, the treaty of the Triple Alliance did not
consist of a single document, but of three separate agreements: one
between Germany and Austria, another between Germany and Italy, and
another between Austria and Italy. When Austria declared war on
Serbia, Italy registered her protest against the policy of Austria in
which she claimed to recognize a violation of that country's treaty
with herself. The pourparlers thus gradually turned for subject matter
to the time-honored grievances which Italy cherished against her
present ally, but old oppressor. In these negotiations Germany
rendered continued aid to Italy, who sought by peaceful means to
secure the return of the provinces to which she had an immemorial
claim. These negotiations failed, and Italy, denouncing her treaty
with Austria-Hungary, declared war against her. But except in so far
as she was the ally of Austria-Hungary, Italy had no grievance against
Germany. She broke off diplomatic relations with both empires, and she
expected that Germany would declare war against her. Germany did not
do so, and there the matter remained.

Italy had undoubted historic grounds for this procedure, which was
likewise in full agreement with the national feeling. For well over a
century feeling in Italy against Austria has been deep and widespread.
Toward Germany, on the other hand, the feeling is largely neutral,
tinged with a certain awe of German efficiency. German investments in
Italy are also said to total something like $3,000,000,000, and the
economic domination which that vast sum denotes was bound to be felt
through every channel of the national life. But neither the respect
felt for German ability nor the secret influence of German finance has
hampered Italy in the conduct of the war. Besides breaking off
diplomatic relations with the kaiser, she treated the Germans within
her gates exactly as she treated the citizens and subjects of other
enemy countries. She formed a commercial alliance with France, Great
Britain, and Russia, an alliance the chief aim of which was the
removal of German economic domination in Italy. She, moreover,
requisitioned German merchant ships that had taken shelter in Italian
ports; and finally she broke off commercial relations with Germany,
and took measures to prevent Germany from obtaining through
Switzerland any goods necessary for the welfare of the population or
the prosecution of the war. Germany allowed the serious measures taken
by Italy to pass unchallenged, and so Italy was content to let the
relations between the two countries continue on that basis.

But beneath all these surface movements ran a deeper current of
influence that was partly hidden from all except those who were
active participants in affairs of southeastern Europe. There was, for
example, the rivalry between Italy and Greece, a factor that may yet
be discovered to have had a deciding influence in the war. For it was
the entrance of Italy into the war, with the assumed pledge of
territorial profits in the Balkans and in Asia Minor, that forced
Greece into maintaining her neutrality at a time when the alignment of
forces in the Balkans was still in complete doubt. A well-informed and
well-conducted diplomacy, steering skillfully amid the eddies of
Balkan affairs, might have brought the combined strength of Italy,
Bulgaria, and Greece to the side of the Allies. But Greek jealousy of
Italy was allowed to smolder and even to be fanned into flame by the
awakened pretensions of the Italian press, whose ambitions in the East
became inflated at the prospect of a victorious war, out of which
Italy was mirrored as issuing as an imperial state holding a hegemony
over the lesser lands on her extended border. While hesitation and
doubt held sway in the councils of the Allies, Bulgaria struck, and at
one stroke brought disaster on Serbia and Montenegro, and stiffened
Greece into an attitude of unshakable neutrality.




CHAPTER XLVIII

PROBLEMS OF STRATEGY


Meanwhile, with more than half a year's fighting behind them, the
Italian commanders had come to certain well-defined military
conclusions. The plans of General Cadorna had involved three separate
campaigns--one in the Trentino, the other in the Carso, and a
subsidiary campaign in the Carnic Alps to the north, along the main
watershed of the mountains. A general offensive in the Trentino had
been tested and found well-nigh impossible. Trentino is indeed a
military paradox--a sharp salient jutting into Italy, which is strong
by reason of its being a salient. This is because it is inclosed on
eight sides by great walls, the batteries of the main Alpine chain. A
salient is weak as a strategical situation in proportion to the
possibility of crushing in its sides and threatening the lines of
retreat of the forces occupying the point. Where the sides cannot be
successfully attacked, it becomes a position of strength and remains a
constant threat. This was the situation in the Trentino. The main
Alpine chain is not impassable. It is indeed conceivable, under
exceedingly favorable circumstances, that one or more of the passes on
the east or west side might be taken and an advance down the valleys
to the Adige turn the positions of the defenders. But ordinary
foresight on the part of the defense would make this impossible. The
valley of the Adige is the only avenue through the Trentino, and this
avenue, which is at best only a narrow road, was heavily guarded by
the strong fortress of Trent. Moreover, there could be but little
result accruing to Italy if the Trentino were forced. The Adige leads
only to the main chain of the Alps, and farther on, across the
mountains by the easiest of Alpine highways, is the Brenner Pass.
Modern defensive power is so great that its development to the point
where this highway would be impregnable, except against overwhelmingly
superior numbers, would be a matter of great simplicity. Along the
northern frontier, in the Carnic Alps, the situation is similar. There
is only one pass across these mountains, and this the Austrians could
block with the same facility and certainty with which they could block
the Brenner Pass.

On the other hand the presumption that the Isonzo sector had a degree
of vulnerability was found correct, and along the Isonzo line the real
Italian offensive from the beginning continued to be directed. The
Isonzo is roughly about three miles into Austria, beyond the political
boundary. But it is the true military boundary between Italy and
Austria, and it was always regarded by the Austrians as their first
line of defense. For almost its entire length, as far south as
Salcaro, about four miles north of Gorizia, the Isonzo River runs
through a deep gorge and is easily defended. From Salcaro to the sea
it issues from the gorge into a more level country--the plateaus of
Gorizia and of Carso--although even the southern part of the line is
dominated by a series of elevations in supporting distance of each
other. Until the line of the Isonzo was forced, Trieste and the entire
Istrian Peninsula might be regarded as safe.

Although the line of the Isonzo was, as has been shown, the only
feasible line on which Italy could advance, no serious offensive could
be attempted until the outlets from the Trentino were thoroughly and
effectively stopped up. For Italy to have advanced in the Carso, with
her rear open to attack by the Austrians coming through the Tyrolean
passes, would have been foolhardy. Italy's first step, therefore, was
to start a simultaneous forward movement through every pass from
Stelvio on the west to the pass near Pontebba on the north. These
movements naturally were of an offensive nature, although they were
really for a defensive purpose. No attempt was made to advance any
distance through the western passes. The Italians were content to take
the fortifications guarding the entrance and to seize heights
commanding the approaches.

On the south and east of the Trentino, however, the operations took on
a more extended and, for the Austrians, a more serious aspect. On the
south the principal efforts were directed against Riva and Rovereto.
The operations against Riva, which is situated at the head of Lake
Garda, were directed along the valley of the Ledro and thence along
the Tonale River, a small stream connecting Lake Ledro and Lake Garda.
At the same time the Italians pushed with energy down the Val Sugana,
which leads directly to Trent. The advance was pushed to a point where
there was no possibility of the Austrians coming through, and there
the Italian forces rested.

Well up, toward the north, in the Dolomites there followed
considerable fighting, in the Cordevole Valley particularly, for the
Col di Lona, the loftiest of the mountain tops in that region. The
Cordevole unites with the Val Forsa some twenty miles east of the
Adige Valley, the Val Forsa connecting with the Adige at the town of
Lavio, six miles north of Trent. To cut in behind the Austrians south
of Trent would, of course, have created havoc with the entire Austrian
forces in the Trentino, but, as stated, the defensive possibilities of
the situation are so formidable that success would appear almost
beyond the realms of actuality.

On the Isonzo front the fighting all along continued on a large scale.
An idea of the immensity of the struggle is suggested by the Austrian
estimate in January, 1916, that Italian casualties had passed the
million mark. Exaggerated as this number was regarded in allied
circles, it showed Austria-Hungary's opinion of the severity of the
fighting in what was considered a subsidiary theatre of the Great War.

The railroad situation on the Isonzo front is, as in practically all
modern military situations, of primary strategic importance. The
Istrian Peninsula is served by three lines, each of which runs to
Austrian bases of supply. One runs up the valley of the Isonzo,
through Gorizia and Tolmino and through the Hochein Tunnel to Vienna.
At Gorizia a branch leaves this line, running southeast, and connects
Gorizia with Trieste across the Carso Plateau. The second line comes
from the east from Laibach through San Pietro, where a branch runs
south to Fiume, and the third comes north from the Austrian naval base
at Pola. Gorizia is served by the northern road from Vienna, from
Trieste by the main line, and by the branch just described. Supplies
from Vienna would be stopped by cutting the road anywhere north of
Gorizia. But to shut off Trieste as a source, both of the southern
rail communications must be cut. Early in June, 1915, the Italians
forced a passage of the Isonzo at Plava and at Monfalcone, and cut the
railroad at these two points. Gorizia then continued to be supplied
only by the Trieste branch. Nor was Trieste itself cut off, as the
road from Laibach through San Pietro continued open. The only way to
isolate Istria was to take the San Pietro junction, and this was the
ultimate aim of the operations at that region.

The Italian objective in Istria was, of course, Trieste. In order to
advance on Trieste the Italians must be secured from a flank attack,
and Gorizia, which is a strongly fortified bridgehead, would be
directly on their flank. Therefore, it must be either captured or
masked before an advance to the south could be started. Gorizia, too,
was important for another reason. It was the point which the
Austrians had chosen to be the center of their first main line of
defense. If it fell, not only was the way open for an advance on
Trieste, but the entire Austrian line to the north and south was
jeopardized through the fact that, with the center pierced, both wings
were exposed to flank attacks, and would have to retreat or be rolled
up and defeated in detail. In other words, the fall of Gorizia would
uncover Austria's entire Isonzo line, and, although there might be
some subsequent resistance in the mountains to the north, the giving
way of the line would be inevitable.

Gorizia, however, as has been shown, stands in the front rank of
strong natural defensive positions. The foothills of the Julian Alps
descend sharply to a plain near where the Isonzo issued from the gorge
which it has cut through the mountains. The line between the plain and
the mountains is sharp and clearly marked. There is no gentle tapering
off of one into the other. This line between the hills and plain is
somewhat irregular in shape and incloses a pocket in which Gorizia is
situated. It is not unlike a huge elliptical stadium. At the north
end, level with the ground, is Gorizia, with the Julian Alps mounting
on all sides. The southern bank is constituted by the plateau of the
Carso, in which is situated the town of Doberdo. Thus the plain of
Gorizia is surrounded on three sides by elevations which serve as
admirable watchmen for the city beneath. Just across the Isonzo from
Gorizia are the town and spur of Podgora, which absolutely command the
city and prevent an Italian attack from that side. With Podgora
completely in Italian hands, it is difficult to see how Gorizia could
hold out. From Podgora the depots, barracks, and supply houses of
Gorizia are within artillery range of guns of all calibers, and the
environs of Podgora have changed hands several times.

To the north of Podgora, at a distance of between two and three
miles, is a second series of heights--the heights of Oslavia, which
also dominate the bridgehead. These the Italians rushed in December,
1915, so the heights northwest of Gorizia continued in Italian
hands. To the south, on the Carso Plateau, the Italians also pushed
forward. The heights on the edge of the plateau--San Michele and
San Martine di Carso--came into Italian hands. The fortifications of
Gorizia--temporary field fortifications--are not at all like the
more modern fortifications of Europe, which, previous to the
shelling of Liege and Namur, were considered almost impregnable.
They are more nearly like the little town of Ossowetz on the Bobr
River, which held out against the German 42-centimeter guns for over
six months, and was then evacuated only because its defenders were
flanked out. There was very little concrete in the Gorizia defenses,
which were mostly earthworks formed into terraces on which the guns
were mounted. Many of these gun positions have been destroyed, but
Gorizia has continued to hold out despite the desperate attacks of
the besiegers.

Because of the natural defensive strength of the line less men have
been used by Austria on this front than in any other theatre of the
war. When war between Italy and Austria broke out the Austrians had
already commenced the vast operations which flung Russia from the
Carpathians and behind Lemberg. The men were therefore not available
in sufficient numbers to defend the line of the Isonzo, otherwise it
is likely it would have remained intact from the outset, and the
Italian forces would never have been able to force their way through
Flava and Monfalcone. That Austria harbored little anxiety regarding
her Italian frontier likewise appears from her relinquishment of the
Russian offensive to begin operations in the Balkans. Whether a real
Italian offensive at any time was among her military plans will remain
doubtful till events make the situation clear. Austria would appear to
have little to gain from a conquest of Italian provinces in which her
former rule brought her the deep and ordained resentment of the
Italian people.

During the month of January, 1916, the southern theatre of war was
comparatively quiet. The forces under General Cadorna maintained their
offensive on the Isonzo without any decisive revolt taking place.
There was considerable bombardment of the bridgeheads at Tolmino and
Gorizia. In the Gorizia sector the Austrians attacked the Italian
positions at Oslavia, capturing 900 men and inflicting severe losses
in killed and wounded. Determined attacks by the Italian troops
followed, and the positions were again transferred to Italian hands.
At the end of this month an official résumé covering Italy's entrance
into the war and the operations of the Italian army in the intervening
months was issued at Rome. In this official communiqué it was
estimated that 30,000 Austrian prisoners, 5 guns, 65 machine guns, and
a large quantity of war material had so far been captured by the
Italians from the Austrian forces. Twenty-five Austrian divisions,
totaling about 425,000 men, were said to have been massed along the
Italian frontier at the beginning of the war.




CHAPTER XLIX

MOVE AGAINST GERMANY


A royal decree was issued at Rome on February 11, 1916, prohibiting
the importation into Italy or transit through Italy of all German and
Austrian merchandise, as well as the exportation of all merchandise of
German or Austrian origin through Italian ports. This was the formal
recognition of a policy that had been followed out with increasing
strictness since hostilities commenced, but which had never been
officially declared. The declaration of war by Italy against Austria
carried with it the prohibition of trading with Austro-Hungarian
subjects, and announcement had been made in the Italian press of
prosecution of persons on the charge of trading with the nation's
enemy. The coupling of the German Empire with Austria-Hungary in this
royal decree was the first formal act on the part of Italy in the way
of making it clear that all commercial relations with Germany were
suspended. This was in accordance with the general policy of
cooperation among the Allies, whose disjointed action had hitherto
seriously hampered the conduct of the war.

It was also decided by the Italian Government on February 16, 1916,
that warmer commercial relations with the allied nations should be
cultivated. In pursuance of this policy a program was mapped out
covering the following five years, during which period machinery, raw
materials, and manufactured articles destined for the development of
existing industries or the creation of new ones could be imported free
of any duty if their origin was in allied or friendly countries. In
this way it was aimed to disintegrate the commercial domination of
Germany which had been built up by the efforts of a generation. It was
felt that by this method efforts on the part of Germany and
Austria-Hungary to recapture lost Italian import trade would be
rendered futile. During this same month announcement was made
regarding the third Italian war loan. This was declared to have
reached on February 6, 1916, 3,000,000,000 lire, which, together with
former loans, showed that altogether 5,000,000,000 lire had been
contributed. Considerable satisfaction was expressed at this result.
It was conceded that in the realm of finance, in which Italy had been
considered weakest, the country had done remarkably well. Considering
that Italy not long ago was considered one of the poorest nations of
Europe, bearing taxes out of all proportion to her wealth, and that
even now she had been enjoying but half a century of national
independence, the showing was full of promise for the future. In
general, it was held that Italy had revealed herself in a character
different from that which had been made traditional by the criticisms
of foreigners.

Not only on the declaration of war had the traditional "Latin
temperament" shown itself to be surprisingly calm and self-possessed,
but various other traits were revealed that militated against the
conventional view. When hostilities began on the Austro-Italian
frontier the stroke of the fateful hour found Italy prepared to the
last button and the last man. An organization that was the fruit of
years of toil had been built up, ready for action on any frontier.
That such action would be first needed on the frontier of a former
ally could not have been foreseen. But within a very short time Italy
was mobilized, and her prompt efficiency made it possible at once to
carry the war on to Austrian territory, where it has since been waged.

On the last day of the month of February, 1916, Italy took still
another step which showed her prepared to burn all her boats as far as
Germany was concerned. On that date the Italian Government
requisitioned thirty-four large German steamers interned in Italian
harbors. A total of fifty-seven German and Austrian vessels were in
Italian ports at the beginning of the war. The Austrian ships were
seized by Italy when war was declared on the Dual Monarchy. No action
had, however, been taken in regard to German vessels. Their status in
the ports of Italy had been regarded as parallel to that of German
vessels which remained in American ports after war began. This led to
a certain amount of heartburning among the friends of the Allies, who
pointed out that it was in line with the Italian policy of maintaining
commercial relations with Germany as far as they could be maintained.
Rumors had also been rife regarding alleged secret agreements that had
been made with the German Government.

These rumors were gradually dissipated by the successive measures
taken by the Italian Government and the requisitioning of the German
interned vessels revealed her as in full cooperation with the Allies.
There were also other considerations that weighed with Italy. The
submarine had revealed itself as a powerful destructive weapon, and
the toll taken by it of allied ships was a heavy one. It was seen that
the transfer of German vessels to the flag of Italy and their use by
the Allies would do much toward relieving the congestion of goods at
American docks which were awaiting shipment to the allied countries.
The loot of German vessels then in Italian ports and their tonnage
formed a formidable total. They were as follows: At Ancona, _Lemnos_,
24,873 tons; at Bari, _Waltraute_, 3,818; at Cagliari, _Spitzfels_,
5,809; at Catania, _Lipari_, 1,539; at Genoa, _Hermesburg_, 2,824,
_König Albert_, 10,484, _Moltke_, 12,325, _Prinz-Regent Luitpold_,
6,595; at Girgenti, _Imbros_, 2,380; at Leghorn, _Amalfi_, 1,756,
_Termini_, 1,523; at Licata, _Portfino_, 1,745; at Naples, _Bayern_,
8,000, _Marsala_, 1,753, _Herania_, 6,455; at Palermo, _Algier_,
3,127, _Catania_, 3,000, _Tunis_, 1,833; at Savona, _Bastia_, 1,527;
at Syracuse, _Albany_, 5,882, _Ambria_, 5,143, _Barcelona_, 5,465,
_Katterturm_, 6,018, _Mudros_, 3,137, _Sigmaringen_, 5,710, _Italia_,
3,498; at Venice, _Samo_, 1,922, _Volos_, 1,903; at Massowah,
_Aspemfell_, 4,361, _Borkum_, 5,645, _Choising_, 1,657, _Christian X_,
4,956, _Ostmark_, 4,400, _Persepolis_, 5,446, _Segovia_, 4,945, and
_Sturmfels_, 5,660. All these were at the end of February, 1916, put
into the service of the Allies, compensating in some degree for the
losses suffered by each of these nations from mines and the deadly
submarine.




CHAPTER L

RENEWED ATTACKS--ITALY'S SITUATION AT THE BEGINNING OF MARCH, 1916


During the month of February, 1916, the war on the Italian front
continued with bitterness but without decisive result. Early in the
month the Austrians attacked the heights of Oslavia northwest of
Gorizia, capturing 1,200 men and several trenches. Several days later
the Italians achieved some results after weeks of hammering in the
Sugana Valley. They captured the mountainous region of Collo and also
occupied the towns of Roncegno and Romchi. By this new acquisition of
territory the Italians came almost within striking distance of one of
their chief objectives in the war--the city of Trent--which lies,
protected on the northeast and north by a line of forts, fifteen miles
west of the conquered terrain. Meanwhile several aerial attacks, which
had been fitfully chronicled since the beginning of the war, brought
anxiety to the coast towns of Italy. Venice with its arsenal was
visited more than once. In February, 1916, hostile aeroplanes
bombarded the town of Setio, fifteen miles from Vicenza, killing six
persons, wounding many others, and doing considerable material damage.
The aerial attack on Setio was the third reported in one week on
Italian cities, following raids on the districts of Ravenna and Milan.
Setio is in northeastern Italy, fifteen miles south of the Austrian
border, and fifty miles northwest of Venice. On February 14, 1916,
Austrian aeroplanes dropped bombs on Rimini, but were chased to the
east by the fire of antiaircraft batteries.

In the last week of February, 1916, a report that Durazzo, an Albanian
port on the Adriatic Sea, had been evacuated by the Italian troops was
confirmed. The Italian brigade stationed there had been withdrawn, it
was officially declared. The Italian troops were drawn back in company
with Serbians, Montenegrins, and Albanians. Men and horses were
gathered together, revictualed, and transported with light losses in
the midst of grave difficulties, by the combined action of Italian and
allied warships and Italian troops along the Albanian coast. When the
evacuation was completed by the departure of the Albanian Government
from Durazzo, the Italian brigade assigned to the city began a
retreat, which was accomplished according to plan despite serious
attacks from the Austrian forces, which advanced as far as the
isthmuses to the east and north of Durazzo. The fall of the city of
Durazzo resulted from the defeat of the Italian and the Albanian
forces under Essad Pasha, the provisional president. A strong line of
outer defenses for the city had been constructed and the indications
were that a spirited resistance would be offered. The Austrian and
German forces attacked at daybreak. The defenders were soon ejected
from their positions at Bazar Sjak. Soon afterward the Italians on the
southern bank of the lower Arzen were forced to abandon their
positions. The Austrians crossed the river and proceeded southward. At
noon a decisive action east of Bazar Sjak drove the Italians from
strong positions. The same fate was suffered by the defenders of Sassa
Bianeo, six miles east of Durazzo. By the evening of February 23,
1916, the entire outer girdle of defenses was taken. The attackers,
advancing to the inner line positions, established the fact that the
Italians were embarking their troops hurriedly. The final result was
that the only position held by Italian troops in the Balkans was
Avlona in Albania. The situation was viewed with much concern in
Italy, where the ambition was to make the Adriatic an Italian sea. It
was an unsatisfactory result of a series of operations in which
Italian interests were vital, but in which Italians had taken but a
negligible part. The conquest of most of the territory north of
Greece had left the Austro-Germans with a large army released for work
elsewhere. French and British were intrenching strongly at Saloniki,
backed by a powerful fleet. The Italians still held Avlona. Greece
remained neutral, but was filled with resentment against the Allies,
who were repeatedly violating her territory. Bulgaria, flushed with
victory, now held her strong army in leash. Serbia and Montenegro had
gone down before the invader. Rumania was resisting every effort
whether by threat or force or cajolement to lead her into war. The
situation called for the most serious consideration from Italy and her
allies.

During February, 1916, M. Briand, the French Premier, was the guest of
the Italian Government in Rome, where he had gone with the object--the
words are M. Briand's--"of establishing a closer and more fruitful
cooperation between the Italians and their allies." Political
cooperation was complete, he declared, but military cooperation on
their part had been admittedly less so, and that was the supreme want
of the moment. Italy rightly hesitated to embark on adventure, but in
order to secure her political aims her primary object was identical
with that of her allies, namely, to break down the military strength
of the Central Powers. For this purpose it was necessary to strike
together, and strike at the enemy's heart. The world knew what
Italians wanted, and meant to get--the Italian Trentino and Trieste;
but frontal attacks were costly, as General Cadorna had discovered,
and the Italian strategist had not yet said his last word.

The fate of Trieste might perhaps be more quickly decided on the
Danube than on the Isonzo. There was a general agreement that an error
had been committed by the Allies in letting the Central Powers cross
the Danube into Serbia. Except along the 250-mile gap between the
Adriatic and the Serbo-Rumanian frontier, the Central Powers were
blockaded either by ships and soldiers or by neutral territory.
Opinions differed as to where the Allies should strike to reach the
heart of Germany, but there were many who thought that the first
offensive should be to close the gateway into the Balkans by
reconquering Serbia and cutting the communications between the
Central Powers and their allies. Time would show what the allied
Governments meant to do, but if this intention was to get back to the
Danube half a million men would be required at Saloniki with an equal
force in reserve.

It was generally admitted that the territorial ambitions of Italy had
been seriously checked by the development of Austrian strength. The
war as originally planned on the Austro-Italian frontier was to be one
of swift movement in the direction of Trieste and Dalmatia; with the
gradual cooperation of the Balkan nations and a general invasion into
the interior of Austria. Until, therefore, decided headway could be
made on the Isonzo front and Gorizia had fallen, a feeling-out
movement would appear the best to be followed. The Italian people were
learning to accept the delay with philosophic resignation. The axiom
of Napoleon was recalled that it was always the unsuspected that
happened in war, and events in the other fighting areas enabled them
to grasp the difficulties of the situation on their own border.

Already in February, 1916, the conquest of Montenegro and the capture
of Mount Lovchen, long the nightmare of Italian statesmen, by the
Austrians, began to be less a subject of anxiety. Serious blow as it
was to Italian prestige, it did not appear irreparable. Even before,
Austria had already a magnificent series of natural harbors in the
Adriatic. But it was argued that Austria had not a sufficiently strong
fleet to take advantage of the new wonderful natural harbor now
entirely in her possession. The chief perils lay in the formidable
obstacle to naval activity formed by Mount Lovchen, with 305-mm. guns
mounted on its summit and in the facile use of the Bocca di Cattaro as
a submarine base from which to harass the Italian fleet. Italy, it was
recognized, was contending with geographical disadvantages everywhere,
but in the Adriatic more than elsewhere, owing to the peculiarly tame
configuration of her coast line. As compared with that on the eastern
side of the Adriatic the contrast was great.

Nature had, indeed, been lavish in her gifts to Austria in this
direction. Deep water inlets forming natural harbors, which at the
present time are invaluable as harbors for warships or as submarine
bases, are to be found all along the Dalmatian coast.

Tajer, Zara, Lesina, Lissa, Curzola, Maleda, Sabbioncello, Grayosa,
and Sebenico are almost in themselves sufficient to counterbalance any
numerical disparity between the Austrian and Italian fleets. Several
of these natural harbors have of late years been transformed, at
enormous expense, into naval ports and strongly fortified. Millions
have been spent on Sebenico, and it has been so fortified as to be
absolutely impregnable from the sea, even the rocks facing the harbor
having been cased in ferroconcrete and turned into forts. The claim of
Venice to be mistress of the Adriatic belongs to a remote age; it has
long since been ousted by Pola, which has gradually been developed
into one of the strongest naval arsenals and ports in the world.
Similarly the whole coast line of Dalmatia is fronted by a chain of
islands, round which submarines can receive supplies and lurk in
absolute security. In the rear of these islands is a succession of
navigable channels through which a war fleet can pass under cover from
Pola to Cattaro. The Italian coast line is the very antithesis of the
Austrian. Between Venice and Brindisi, the whole length of the
Adriatic, there is not a single natural harbor. But, said the
Italians:

"What is the good of a fine stable without horses?" Italy had the
ships, Austria the harbors: it remained to be seen which would win
out.

The bearing of all this on the question of Italy's cooperation with
the Allies in the Balkans is apparent. It had been frequently remarked
that the Dalmatian coast line was likely one day to bring on a
European war, for its possession is of vital interest to Italy.
Austria, with twelve naval bases and all the natural advantages of
coast line in her favor, is in a far stronger position than Italy. How
can Italy hope to occupy the Dalmatian coast? There was and is a
considerable diversity of opinion in Italy as to the wisdom of an
over-sea expedition in addition to the occupation of Avlona in
Albania. At one moment it was suggested that in view of the
preponderating call on the military resources of the country in the
areas of operations on the Isonzo, in Carnia, Cadore, and the
Trentino, it would be wiser to withdraw for the time being from
Avlona. But it would seem as though Italy is bound to see the thing
through. The place has been put into a state of comparative
impregnability. Italy is well aware that her line of communication
must remain more or less at the mercy of the Austrian fleet operating
from Pola and the naval bases along the coast. She would need very
material assistance from the allied fleets, and her part in the Balkan
operations would appear therefore to depend on cohesive action among
the allied admirals. The loss of Avlona would inflict a blow on the
prestige of the Allies paralleling that of the Gallipoli débâcle. Yet
at the end of February, 1916, the Austrians, advancing along the coast
in conjunction with Bulgarians coming from Monastir, would appear to
be making Avlona their objective. Austrian success would make the
Adriatic a _mere clausum_ to the allied fleets and cripple Italy in
one of her chief arms of defense and offense.




PART X--CAMPAIGN IN MESOPOTAMIA




CHAPTER LI

OPERATIONS AGAINST BAGDAD AND AROUND THE TIGRIS


The British campaign in Mesopotamia during the first year of the war
had been generally successful. After the capture of Basra in November,
1914, the Delta country was cleared of the enemy and the safety of the
oil fields assured. A period of quiet followed, broken only when the
Turks took the offensive, which failed, in April, 1915. Late in May
the British won a decisive victory over the Turkish troops at Kurna.
In July, 1915, the ill-fated expedition against the enemy forces
guarding Bagdad was planned. Later, after the failure in the
Dardanelles, it was necessary to attempt something spectacular that
would restore British prestige in the Orient, and this could be
accomplished by the capture of Bagdad.

The British position in regard to Persia had become difficult. It was
known that the German Ambassador at Teheran, Prince Henry XXXI of
Reuss, was scheming with Persian tribes and Persian statesmen and
politicians, and also trying to win over the armed police and their
Swedish officers. Russia and Great Britain had established this police
system to protect the highways from brigands, and Swedish officers had
been chosen to command them because they might be counted on not to
favor Russian or British interests.

[Illustration: The Bagdad Railroad.]

The mountain tribes on the Turko-Persian border were in a state of
unrest and seemed to be only waiting an opportunity to show their
hostility toward the foes of Germany and Turkey. The Swedish-led
gendarmerie were also more than suspected by the British of having
been won over by German agents. The Russian army in the Caucasus
meanwhile was accomplishing little or nothing, while the Turkish
forces in part were extending toward the Persian highlands, with the
purpose, it was suspected, of joining with the Swedish-led rebels and
mountain tribes. The Turks and intriguers in Persia evidently thought
the time ripe for a quick conquest of Persia, as the main Russian
armies in Poland were not in a position to interfere. It seemed to the
Turks and their German advisers that the hour was propitious to send
forward an army that would drive the British-Indian Expeditionary
Force out of Mesopotamia.

Sir John Nixon had no adequate forces at his command for the proposed
task of capturing Bagdad, having only at his disposal one division of
Indian and British troops, and a brigade or so in reserve with which
to attack the Turkish army that was daily increasing in numbers.

The most implacable foe that the British troops had to contend against
was the climate. It was found impossible to march more than eight
miles a day and after sundown. The heat in the tents at times varied
between 128 and 130 degrees Fahrenheit. With burning sand underfeet,
and scorching rays of the sun from above, blood dried up in the body,
the brain became inflamed, followed by delirium, coma, death. It was
impossible for the white soldiers to perspire unless they were near
marshes where they might quench their intolerable thirst in the
brackish waters. Owing to the lack of fresh vegetables and improper
food, the rations of bully beef and hard-tack, and the assaults of
blood-sucking insects, many deaths occurred. Even the Northwest Indian
troops, accustomed to the desert and life in a hot climate, suffered
intensely in Mesopotamia. It is necessary to consider the climatic
conditions the British forces had to contend with in this country to
understand why their progress was necessarily slow, and why so many
men fell by the way.

The attempt to capture Bagdad was much criticized when projected, and
since, as being foolhardy, and likely to fail, and in any case not
worth the great loss of men it must entail. But the British-Indian
Expeditionary Force was in a position where it must take a gambler's
chance and stand to win or lose. To capture the city of the Caliphs
would in the first place greatly impress the Mohammedan population and
restore British prestige, which had sadly suffered through the
Dardanelles failure. And it was necessary that the British troops
should act promptly and without counting the possible cost, for every
hour's delay permitted the Turks and their allies to grow in strength.

To the British, Bagdad was of importance. It was needed as a base at
the head of navigation. It would enable them to prevent Turkish troops
from traveling over Persian highways, and, most important of all, it
would afford the British opportunities to check Mohammedan
organization and subdue attempted risings.

General Townshend, who commanded the division that was sent forward to
attempt the capture of Bagdad, had all the odds against him. His small
force, consisting of two-thirds Indian and one-third British troops,
was hopelessly inadequate for the projected campaign. It was known
that the Turks were well equipped with guns of superior power, and
that they were directed by German officers, assisted by German
engineers; that the very able German officer Marshal von der Goltz was
in charge of operations. When it is considered that the Turkish force
was three times as strong in numbers as General Townshend's, the
British general's advance on Bagdad seemed foredoomed to failure. His
only hope lay in delivering a swift defeat to the Turks before their
reenforcements could arrive from the Caucasian front, a movement which
began about the middle of September, 1915.

Before an advance could be made on Bagdad it was necessary for the
British to defeat a large Turkish force at Nasiriyeh and at
Kut-el-Amara, where the British captured fourteen guns and about 1,000
prisoners, losing in killed and wounded 500 officers and men. The
Turkish trenches were destroyed and within a small area about 900
Turkish dead were counted.

The British troops, having fought in an atmosphere of 130 degrees,
were thoroughly exhausted when they encamped in Nasiriyeh. Like most
Arab towns, the place was in such a filthy condition that it required
weeks to clean it up and make it habitable for Europeans. Meanwhile
the British troops lived in tents and enjoyed a much needed rest. It
was stated that fully 95 per cent of the men were in such a state of
exhaustion as to be quite unfit for active service. If the Turkish
commander in chief had known of this, the reenforcements he had
dispatched from his base at Kut-el-Amara might easily have compelled
the British force to retire. Fortunately for the British, the Turkish
reenforcements encountered on the way the routed Turkish army of the
Euphrates and evidently heard such tales of the fighting powers of the
British and Indian soldiers that they joined the fugitives in their
retreat.

At the close of August, 1915, Nasiriyeh had been made habitable by the
British engineers and a large part of the force departed for Amara on
steamers and barges, most of the soldiers wearing only a waist-clout
and still suffering from the intense heat, as they crouched under the
grass-mat shelters that had been provided. The garrison left in the
town to keep the Arabs in order suffered from swarms of flies, heat,
fever, and dysentery, and would have welcomed a Turkish attack if only
that it might afford some variety to their monotonous life.

During this time General Townshend, from his base at Amara on the
Tigris, was moving his heterogeneous collection of vessels up the
river and had begun friendly negotiations with the powerful tribes of
the Beni Lam Arabs, who held most of the land between the Tigris and
the northern mountains, and much territory on the southern side of the
river. Here stretched out a desert waste between Amara and
Kut-el-Amara, occupied by powerful confederations of fighting
Bedouins, the Abu Mohammed tribes, known by their black tents, who
moved about the British base on the river; the Makusis tribes, who
fought as light cavalry on the side of the Turks, and the Abu Dir
Diraye Arabs, who were ready to fight on any side that promised the
most booty. For religious reasons their priests urged the Arabs to
fight against the infidels, but the Britons had enjoyed considerable
prestige in Mesopotamia; thousands of Arabs calling themselves English
subjects and claiming the help of the British Consul in Bagdad when
they were in difficulties.

A fighting league with the great federation of Beni Lam was greatly to
be desired by the British, for it would enable them to use freely a
considerable stretch of the Tigris, and secure safety from attack from
both banks. The Beni Lam by siding with the English, whose recent
victories had not failed to impress them, hoped to gain new grazing
territory from their rivals who fought with the Turks, so an alliance
was formed and ratified by the Sheiks of the confederation, and Sir
John Nixon, Commander in Chief; Sir Percy Cox, British Resident in the
Persian Gulf, and General Townshend commanding the troops at Amara.

The British were under no illusions regarding the Arab character,
having learned from some bitter experiences just how much the wily
nomads were to be trusted. As long as the British were victorious they
might count on the Arabs' allegiance, but in case of defeat he was
more than likely to turn about and fight with the enemy. The alliance
between the British and the Beni Lam Arabs was of problematic value,
but it was worth while under the circumstances. It was better to
secure their friendship even temporarily, for the Arabs had been a
constant source of trouble from the time the British Expeditionary
Force entered Mesopotamia. Fighting to them was a pastime rather than
a serious business, and whenever the struggle became deadly they would
very likely disappear. A veritable nuisance to the British force were
the Arabs who hung around the skirts of the expeditionary force and
amused themselves by reckless sniping.

Conflicts with mounted bands offered no difficulties, for having no
artillery they would disappear among the dunes to be located later by
British aeroplanes, and could then be hunted down by columns of
infantry. When aeroplanes were not available, it was impossible to
follow their movements. Having perfect mounts they could afford to
laugh at a cavalry charge.

"They would simply melt away into thin air," wrote an officer at the
front, who had led a charge against these sons of the desert. "They
are a quaint mixture," he adds: "some of them being distinctly gallant
fellows, but the greater part are curs and jackals and will never take
you on unless they are at least three, or four, to your one.
Incidentally, they have the pleasant habit of turning on the Turks
(for whom they are nominally fighting) and looting and harassing them
as soon as they (the Turks) take the knock from us, and as a
consequence the Turk does not much care about having a real scrap with
us."

Sometimes the Arabs led the British into desert wastes where they
could get water from hidden springs known only to themselves, and
where the British soldier, who literally traveled on his water bottle,
suffered tortures from thirst under a heat that dried up the blood in
his veins. In some of these attempts to round up Bedouin marauders the
British lost a number of men because the water supply gave out. These
conditions will explain why in so many dispatches sent by General
Townshend from the front, it was stated that he had to fall back on
the Tigris because his troops lacked water. In such parts of the
country where it was possible to employ armed motor cars and even the
best Arabian steed could be run down, the Bedouins found their old
tactics of little account and were inspired with a wholesome fear of
the British soldier. Portable wireless apparatus used by airmen and
troops, and scouting aeroplanes, made difficulties for the elusive
Bedouins whose methods of desert warfare had not changed in centuries.
So it happened that in proportion as British fighting methods and
British resources became known and feared by the Arab in Mesopotamia
he grew more and more wary of running into danger, unless the odds
were altogether in his favor. What the German and Turkish officers
endured from their Arab allies will probably never be known, but on
more than one occasion when the British won a victory and the Turks
were in retreat, the Arabs were active in despoiling the fugitives and
then made off with their loot, and with the new rifles and equipment
they had been supplied with by the Turks or Germans.

Being accomplished robbers, the Arabs were constantly making raids on
British stores under cover of the night and were generally successful.
On one occasion a party of eight got by the pickets and crawled into
the regimental slaughterhouse. But they had not counted on modern
science. There were mines planted outside the door and every Arab who
was a robber was killed.




CHAPTER LII

ADVANCE TOWARD BAGDAD--BATTLE OF KUT-EL-AMARA


The advance toward Bagdad was begun in the middle of September, 1915,
but owing to the constantly changing conditions in the bed of the
Tigris, which hindered the progress of vessels, and the necessity for
constant reconnaissances of the river region, it was not until the
last of the month that the British force, consisting of only four
brigades, reached the vicinity of Kut-el-Amara.

Nuredin Pasha's troops occupied a strong position near the Kut, with
carefully constructed intrenchments protected by large areas of
barbed-wire entanglements and supported by considerable heavy
artillery. The British camp was about ten miles away from the Turkish
position. They were weaker in men and in guns than the enemy. The heat
was overpowering. The British lost some men on the way to this camp
and others continued to drop out from heat exhaustion.

On September 23, 1915, two British brigades advanced to within sight
of the Turkish tents, while their principal camp was pitched on the
south bank of the Tigris. The British steamers took up a position
between the two armies in readiness to shatter a surprise attack. It
was discovered when the two brigades made a demonstration against the
enemy on September 25, 1915, that the Turks had thoroughly mined all
the southern bank of the river, which caused the British commander to
alter his plans of attack.

On the night of September 27, 1915, the two brigades, leaving their
tents standing to deceive the Turks, crossed the Tigris by a flying
bridge. It is said that this dummy camp which a Turkish division was
facing was the direct cause that enabled the British to win a victory.
If the Turks had concentrated all their forces on the north bank of
the river the British attack would undoubtedly have failed. It was the
absence of the division facing the empty tents from the real battle
field that caused them to lose the day.

In order to understand the magnitude of the British victory it is
necessary to describe the seemingly impregnable character of the
Turkish defenses. There were twelve miles of defenses across the river
at right angles to its general direction at this point--six miles to
the right and six miles to the left. The works on the right bank had
been strengthened by the existence of an old water cut. The banks at
this point were from ten to twenty feet high and afforded excellent
facilities for viewing the deployment of troops advancing to attack. A
strong redoubt on the extreme right opposed any flank movement that
might be attempted in that direction. On the left bank the line of
defenses was separated by a heavy marsh about two miles wide, so that
from the left bank of the river there were, first, two miles of
trenches, then two miles of marsh, and then two miles of defenses. It
was evident that much labor had been expended in preparing these
defenses, showing the skilled hand of German engineers. Each section
of the successive lines of trenches was connected by an intricate
network of communication trenches. Along these complete lines of water
pipes had been laid.

It was known that the Turkish army holding this strong position had
been largely reenforced by the arrival of fresh troops from Nasiriyeh,
and the Turkish commander in chief, Nuredin Pasha, may well have
believed that victory would crown his arms that day and that the
British expeditionary force would be annihilated. There was no lack of
confidence in the British camp either, though it was known that the
Turks were vastly superior in numbers to their own army. For, despite
some hard lessons learned from the enemy, the British soldier
considers himself a superior fighter to the Turk, and is always eager
for an opportunity to prove it.

If the Turks had made their position almost impregnable on land, they
had neglected nothing to prevent the British from gaining any
advantage on the Tigris. The river was blocked at different points by
lines of sunken dhows, while across the water, and a little above it,
was stretched a great wire cable. Special care had been taken to
protect the Turkish guns from being destroyed. Each one of them was
placed in such position that nothing less than a direct hit by a
howitzer shell could damage it.

On September 26, 27, and 28, 1915, a column under General Fry, by
ceaseless effort day and night, had managed to work its way up to
within four hundred yards of the Turkish barbed-wire entanglements,
round what was known from its shape as the Horseshoe Marsh. The troops
went forward slowly under continual shell fire and hail of rifle
bullets, digging themselves in as they advanced. The British guns in
the open could not check the Turkish artillery, which increased in
intensity as the British troops continued to advance. The nature of
the ground was decidedly to the advantage of the attackers, for at
intervals there were deep, firm-bottomed trenches that afforded
excellent cover. If the Turks had been provided with good ammunition
the British would have lost vastly more men than they did. It is said
that the Turkish shrapnel was of such poor quality that the British
troops passed unscathed through it, only being wounded when they were
hit by cases and fuses. All told, the British suffered ninety
casualties in this attack on the enemy round the Horseshoe Marsh. The
main object of this operation was to hold the Turkish attention at a
point where they hoped to be attacked while more important work was
going forward elsewhere.

A second column under General Delamain, which had crossed the Tigris
from the south side, marched all night of September 27, 1915, and
reached their new attacking position on a neck of dry land between two
marshes where the Turks were intrenched at five o'clock in the morning
of September 28, 1915. Advancing cautiously for a mile between the two
marshes, Delamain's column came in sight of the enemy's intrenchments.
Before the fight opened General Townshend directed General Houghton to
lead a detachment of Delamain's force around the marsh to the north
and make a flank attack on the Turkish intrenchments. That Nuredin
Pasha should have left his northern flank exposed to a turning
movement appeared to some of the British officers at the time as a
piece of incredible stupidity; but it developed afterward that the
Turkish commander knew perfectly well what he was about. The open road
around the marsh was a skillfully prepared trap. A carefully concealed
Turkish brigade that had escaped the observations of the British
airmen lay behind the ridges near the most northern marsh. But the
Turkish surprise did not come off as they expected, for General
Houghton's column moved forward so swiftly through the dark around the
marsh that, at 8.20 a. m., he was ready to send a wireless message to
his superior officer announcing that he had reached the left rear of
the Turkish lines. Everything now being ready for a general attack,
General Townshend proceeded to give battle. Since sunrise on September
27, 1915, the fleet on the river, consisting of armed steamers,
tugboats, launches, etc., had been firing on the main Turkish
position. Attempts made by H. M. S. _Comet_, leading a flotilla to get
in near to the shore at the bend of the river and bombard the Turks at
close range, were a failure. For the enemy quickly noted this movement
and dropped shells so fast on the British vessels that they were
compelled to retire. Some boats had been struck by Turkish shells, but
the damages were not serious. Later some armed launches were able to
creep near to the Turkish field batteries, and about noon their guns
were silenced and the gunners killed or dispersed. The British shore
batteries did some effective work, but the Turks succeeded in getting
in one shot that killed two gunners and wounded a number of others. It
was the only shot, and the last, that caused any British loss of life.

During most of the long hot day General Fry's brigade occupied a
position in front of the Horseshoe Marsh, subjected to a constant
shower of shells from quick-firing guns. It was evident that the enemy
artillery was manned by Germans, for the firing showed speed and
accuracy. It was an advantage to the British that the enemy had no
airmen to scout and spot for them, and consequently there were few
casualties as the result of the almost continuous deluge of shells
poured forth by the Turkish guns. Early in the morning the Turks
discovered that the British camp was a dummy, and a division crossing
the Tigris by means of a flying bridge dashed into the fight. A
counterattack was made against General Delamain by the greater part
of this fresh division.

The British column which was operating between what were known as the
Suwada Marsh and Circular Marsh started its assault between eight and
nine o'clock in the morning. The British had concentrated all their
available artillery between the marshes, and under the protection of
the guns and the supporting fire of Maxims and musketry a double
company of the 117th Mahrattas made a headlong charge on the Turkish
trenches. The daring Indians suffered great losses, not more than half
the number who had set out reaching the Turkish trenches, into which
they dashed intrepidly and bayoneted their way along them, causing
heavy losses to the enemy. A double company of Second Dorsets was now
sent against the Turkish trenches, and after meeting with desperate
resistance they succeeded in entering the enemy's deeply dug line. The
rest of the battalion followed a little later, joining their comrades
in the captured position.

General Houghton's leading troops now came into action around the rear
of the Circular Marsh. The Turks' northern flank had been stormed, but
they still held desperately to their southern flank, from which they
poured a devastating stream of shells against the British troops that
caused many casualties.

General Houghton's troops had had little rest since the previous day,
but they were cheered by the prospect of success, and with the Oxfords
leading they entered the fight, and after four hours of continuous
struggle surrounded and destroyed or captured the enemy force. The
Turkish troops, concealed in deep ditches protected from the scorching
rays of the sun by grass matting, fought on with dogged determination
and were with difficulty dislodged. The British troops exposed to the
pitiless heat, and exhausted from lack of sleep and from having had no
water since the previous day, suffered terribly and could not possibly
have held out much longer if the Turkish resistance had not collapsed.

General Delamain, commanding the victorious columns, had made a night
march from the dummy camp on the Tigris, and his soldiers and horses
also suffered from thirst, having been forced into action before it
was possible to renew the water supply.

In the afternoon of the same day, September 28, 1915, General
Houghton's exhausted troops were furiously attacked by the Turkish
division that had crossed the Tigris at nine o'clock in the morning,
while a force of Turkish cavalry at the same time attempted an
outflanking charge.

The British troops beat off the Turkish horsemen and infantry and
endeavored to reach the river, which was over a mile to the rear of
the Turkish intrenched forces at Horseshoe Marsh. Exhausted with
weariness, consumed by a feverish thirst, the gallant troops were
swept by showers of shrapnel from heavy Turkish batteries stationed
near the Kut just when they were nearing the longed-for river that
promised relief for their sufferings. It was impossible for them to
continue in that unprotected position, and reluctantly the troops
turned back from the inviting waterway and struggled back to the
Suwada Marsh, where General Delamain's force was concentrated. The
filthy marsh water was undrinkable, but it could be used to cool the
superheated jackets of the guns and thus keep them in a condition for
action. After nearly fourteen hours of continuous fighting and
marching the troops at last had an opportunity to take a short and
much-needed rest.

At 5 p. m. a wireless message was received from General Townshend
ordering a combined attack on the Turkish lines around Horseshoe
Marsh. General Delamain's column was ordered to move forward to the
rear of the enemy's position, while General Fry's column, which had
been moving toward the Turkish center, was directed to hold back until
Delamain had reached the appointed place.

Behind Nuredin Pasha's main position the two brigades under General
Delamain and General Houghton, skirting the Suwada Marsh, struggled
once more to gain the river. Suddenly, out of the dust clouds that
obscured the view for any distance, appeared a Turkish column about a
mile to the west marching almost parallel with the British force, but
a little behind it. It is related by one who was present that this
sudden appearance of the enemy so close at hand, and marching in the
open, had such a stimulating and heartening effect on the exhausted
and thirst-stricken British troops that they forgot for a time all
about the river toward which they were eagerly pressing, and, dashing
forward, charged the Turks with the bayonet and routed them before
they had time to recover from their surprise or could fire more than a
few wild shots. The British captured all the enemy guns and pursued
the enemy fleeing toward the river, shooting them down as they
scattered, and only ceasing their destructive work when darkness fell
and the few living Turks had escaped over their bridge of boats on the
river.

The combat here had not lasted more than an hour, and the British
brigades, now that the excitement was over, were too exhausted to
proceed any farther and bivouacked on the ground near the scene of
their victory.

It was hopeless now to attempt to continue the encircling movement,
which was started at five o'clock, owing to the darkness and the
condition of the men. Some time during the night Nuredin Pasha, having
evacuated his fortified position, moved his troops across the Tigris
to the southern bank and, by forced marches, reached Shat-el-Hai. From
there he proceeded to Azizie, where, for the defense of Bagdad,
extensive fortifications had been constructed. It was evident from the
rapidity of his movements that the Turkish commander was afraid of
being overtaken by the British forces, for in two days he had marched
his men sixty-five miles toward Bagdad.

The Turkish forces made good their retreat, and so General Townshend,
who had accomplished some remarkable successes at the beginning of the
battle, was deprived of a decisive victory. He had evidently planned
the battle on the impulse of the moment and when it was impossible to
secure an adequate water supply. His men fought with courage and
determination, but tormented by thirst and worn out from loss of sleep
it was physically impossible for them to accomplish more than they
did. It was a bitter blow to General Townshend that the Turks had been
able to retreat in good order. The importance of such a victory could
not be overestimated. It meant the conquering of entire Mesopotamia as
far as Bagdad, and the moral effect of such a success on the Arabs and
tribesmen would have greatly raised British prestige in that region.

An attempt was made to give chase to the fleeing Turks on the river
during the night, when Lieutenant Commander Cookson, the senior naval
officer, with his ship, the destroyer _Comet_, and several other
smaller vessels set out after them. The Turks fired on the boats from
the shore, and the _Comet_, which had steamed in close to the bank,
was assailed with hand grenades by the enemy. A strong, thick wire had
been stretched across the river, attached to sunken dhows, and it
became necessary to remove these obstructions before an advance could
be made. A vivid description of the heroic death of Lieutenant
Commander Edgar Christopher Cookson, D. S. O., R. N., who won the
Victoria Cross for his bravery at this time, is given in a letter home
by one of his crew of the destroyer _Comet_: "Just as it was getting
dark our seaplane dropped on the water alongside of us and told
Lieutenant Commander Cookson that the Turks were on the run, but that
a little farther up the river they had placed obstructions across, so
that we could not pass without clearing it away. This turned out to be
the liveliest time that I have had since we began fighting. It was
very dark when we started off, the _Comet_ leading, and the _Shaitan_
and _Sumana_ following. When we got around the head of land the Turks
opened fire with rifles, but we steamed up steadily to the
obstruction. The Turks were then close enough to us to throw hand
bombs, but luckily none reached the deck of our ship.

"During all this time we weren't asleep. We fired at them with guns
and rifles, and the _Shaitan_ and _Sumana_ were also blazing away. Our
troops ashore said it was a lively sight to see all our guns working.

"We found that the obstruction was a big wire across the river, with
boats made fast to it. An attempt to sink the center dhow of the
obstruction by gunfire having failed, Lieutenant Commander Cookson
ordered the _Comet_ to be placed alongside and himself jumped on to
the dhow with an ax and tried to cut the wire hawsers connecting it
with two other craft forming the obstruction. He was shot in seven
places and when we dragged him over his last words were: 'I am done;
it is a failure. Return at full speed!' He never spoke afterward. We
had six wounded, but none seriously."

The adventure which had cost the British the loss of a brave officer
was not a failure, as this writer concludes: "We must have frightened
the Turks, because on going up the river again about daybreak (after
we had buried our commander) we found the Turks had cleared out and
retired farther up the river. So we steamed up after them and when we
reached Kut-el-Amara we found the army there." The friendly but keen
rivalry that existed between the two services is amusingly shown in
the sea-man's final comment, "This is the first place that the army
has got ahead of the navy."

A little later the gunboats were ordered to pursue the fleeing Turks.
The _Shaitan_ and the _Sumana_ grounded on uncharted mud banks and
were unable to proceed, but the _Comet_ continued on its way and
forced the Turks to leave several dhows behind them laden with
military stores, provisions, and ammunition.

Kut-el-Amara, the Arab town which General Townshend was to make famous
in history, was occupied by the British troops on September 11, 1915.
It is situated on a bend of the Tigris and is 120 miles from Bagdad by
road, and 220 miles by water. The retreating Turkish army made a stand
a little to the west of Azizi, which is forty miles to Bagdad by road
and about four times that distance by water. The object of the Turks
in taking up a position at this place, it was discovered later, was to
enable their engineers to prepare near Bagdad the most elaborate and
scientifically arranged system of fortifications that had so far been
constructed in Mesopotamia.

When the British Expeditionary Force began to threaten the "City of
the Caliphs," it was evident that the Turks had found it possible to
extend the Bagdad railway line, by means of which Nuredin Pasha
received fresh troops to reenforce his army, brought hurriedly down
out of Syria. For when the British force reached Azizi on October 13,
1915, it was known that the Turkish commander had recently received
some thousands of fresh troops. Their presence in that part of
Mesopotamia, at that time, could only be explained on the ground that
with the aid of German engineers the Turks had been enabled to
complete railway communications, an important fact that seems to have
been unsuspected by the British military authorities, and which might
lead to serious consequences for the already outnumbered British
force. Until the beginning of November General Townshend's division
remained here, part of the Turkish force being intrenched about four
miles up the river. While it was expected that at any hour the Turks
would attack, they did not attempt the offensive with any strong
force, but skirmishes between the opposing troops were of frequent and
almost daily occurrence. The British infantry were busy many days
digging intrenchments, and every preparation was made by the British
general to make his position impregnable. With shore batteries and a
number of armed steamers and armored boats on the river, it was hoped
that the Turks would make a grand attack. Why they did not when they
had four times the number of men as the British was inexplainable.
Some such move was necessary if they hoped to restore the confidence
of their Arab allies, which was said to be wavering. The recent
British victory had, perhaps, made the Turkish commander doubtful of
his troops, for no serious offensive against the British position was
attempted.

About the middle of October, 1915, General Townshend received some
reenforcements who had fought their way along the river, constantly
harassed by Bedouins and hostile tribesmen, reaching the British
position in a thoroughly exhausted condition. Even with the arrival of
the reenforcements General Townshend's force numbered little more than
a complete division, and a small reserve. During the stay at Azizi it
was rumored that a large contingent of troops was on its way from
India to strengthen the force at this place.

As time passed and nothing more was heard of these promised
reenforcements the small British army settled down with grim
determination to make the best of their situation, but there was a
general feeling among them that the Government had not acted fairly
by them in not sending help. It was evident that the Indian and
British Governments were imperfectly informed as to the strength of
the enemy's forces and of the means whereby they could fill up the
ranks when depleted by battle. This is the only explanation or excuse
that could be made. At no time did General Townshend's force number
more than four brigades, which, under the circumstances, was wholly
inadequate to accomplish the conquest of Bagdad.

General Townshend being thrown on his own resources proceeded to act
with extreme caution, for the whole fate of the British Expeditionary
Force hung in the balance. It was not a time to take venturesome
risks, for he could not spare a man. The Turks, fortunately, showed no
disposition to attack in force, but they resorted to methods of
guerrilla warfare.

The Turks had only left one brigade to hold their advanced position,
the remainder joining the forces established in the new fortifications
near Bagdad.

The rear guard remaining near Azizi did not allow the British to
forget their presence. They were well equipped with guns and at
frequent intervals sent shells into the British camp without, however,
doing much damage. Along the river they were strong enough to hold
back the British gunboats. For a time General Townshend pursued the
policy of watchful waiting, but one dark night toward the close of
October, 1915, the opportunity arrived for an operation which promised
success. Two brigades were sent out to make a long detour, with the
object of getting behind the Turkish position. This, it was expected,
would take most of the night. At sunrise it was proposed that another
brigade should make a frontal attack on the enemy. The Turks, however,
were not to be caught napping. Their outposts, far flung into the
desert, soon gave warning of the attempted British enveloping
movement, and they were in full retreat with most of their stores and
guns before the British force could reach their main position. The
Turkish retreat in the face of superior numbers was the logical thing
to do under the circumstances, and from the manner in which the
movement was conducted it was evident that it had been prepared for in
advance. The brigades of British and Indian troops that had been sent
forward to make a frontal attack on the Turkish position now embarked
on the miscellaneous flotilla of boats on the river to pursue the
retreating foe. The attempt was not successful, for, owing to the
condition of the river which abounded in mud banks not down on the
chart, the British boats were constantly sticking fast in the mud or
grounding on shoals. Such slow progress was made that the pursuit, if
such it could be called, was abandoned.

British seaplanes and aeroplanes meanwhile had been scouting around
Bagdad and keeping a watchful eye on the Turkish lines of
communication that extended up the river toward the Caucasus heights,
and across the desert in the direction of Syria. The difficult task
set before the small British force was to break its way through to
Bagdad, where it was hoped it would be joined by the advanced columns
of the Russian army in the Caucasus. Early in November, 1915, General
Townshend knew that a Russian advanced column was rapidly forcing its
way down the border of Persia by Lake Urumiah. In a more southerly
direction a second column was on the march to the city of Hamadan, 250
miles from Bagdad. It was hoped that the small British force would
smash the Turks at Bagdad and the Germano-Persian Gendarmes Corps be
vanquished at Hamadan, after which it would be no difficult task for
the troops of Sir John Nixon to link up with the army of the Grand
Duke Nicholas. These far too sanguine hopes were not destined to be
fulfilled.




CHAPTER LIII

BATTLE OF CTESIPHON


General Townshend having captured the village of Jeur on November 19,
1915, marched against Nuredin Pasha's main defenses which had been
constructed near the ruins of Ctesiphon, eighteen miles from Bagdad.
Ctesiphon at the present time is a large village on the Tigris, once a
suburb of ancient Seleucia, and the winter capital of the Parthian
kings. The vicinity is of great historic interest. About thirteen
centuries ago Chosroes, the great Persian emperor, erected a vast and
splendid palace, said to be the greatest on earth in that period, and
of which the ruins are still standing near the marshy edge of the
river. Neither the ravages of time, nor the devastations of the
destructive Mongols who swept the country in ages past could
obliterate this palatial memorial to the genius of Persian architects.
The ruins of the palace at Ctesiphon contain the greatest vaulted room
in the world, and its battered walls, grand in decay, stand to-day an
enduring monument to the invincible power of Islam in the days of
Mohammed. For one of the first of the well-known achievements of the
army of the Arabian prophet was the capture of Ctesiphon and the
burning and despoiling of the palace of the Persian kings.

[Illustration: The Russian Advance through Persia.]

Nuredin Pasha was well aware when he selected his defensive position
near the ruins of this memorial to the valor of Islam in ancient days,
that every Turk, Arab, and tribesman of his troops was familiar with
the story, and he doubtless hoped that its memory might inspire the
descendants of the Prophet's army to fresh deeds of valor for the
honor of Islam.

Around this ruin the Turks had constructed their position, on the
right bank of the river and on the left. For miles around the country
was perfectly flat and devoid of cover of any description. A network
of deep and narrow trenches stretched back to within a short distance
of the River Dialah, six miles to the rear, which flows into the
Tigris at this point. The earth from the trenches had been carried to
the rear, and there were no embankments or parapets of any kind. Along
the entire front a thick barbed-wire fence had been set up.

The hard-fought action at Ctesiphon must rank as one of the greatest
battles in which the Indo-British army has ever been engaged. The
troops were in an emaciated condition through constant fighting, first
in excessively hot weather, and afterward suffering intensely from the
cold, which made the nights unendurable at this time of the year in
Mesopotamia. In such a physically weakened condition did the
Indo-British troops engage the vastly stronger forces of Nuredin
Pasha at Ctesiphon. An officer who participated in the battle
describes in a letter home some of the striking incidents of that
important action.

"Morning of the 22d of November, 1915, found the troops in readiness
to attack, stretched out on the wide plain facing the Ctesiphon
position, the troops detailed for the frontal attack nearest the
river. As soon as dawn broke the advance commenced. The left of the
columns marching against the enemy's flank were faintly visible on the
horizon. The gunboats opened fire against the enemy's trenches close
to the left bank. The field artillery drew in and pounded the ground
where they imagined the trenches must be, but there was no reply, nor
any sound of movement at Ctesiphon until the lines of advancing
infantry got within 2,000 yards of the wire entanglements. Then, as by
signal, the whole of the Turkish line broke into a roar of fire, and
we knew that the struggle had commenced.

"Under the heavy artillery fire the attack pushed in toward the enemy
with a steadiness which could not have been beaten on parade until
effective rifle range was reached, where a pause was made to build up
the strength. The fight for the trenches from now on until the British
succeeded in reaching the first line of trenches baffles description.
The gallant advance across the open ground, the building up of the
firing line, the long pause under murderous rifle fire, while devoted
bodies of men went forward to cut the wire, the final rush and the
hand-to-hand fighting in the trenches, are stories which have been
told before. No description could do justice to the gallantry of the
men who carried it out.

"Meanwhile, the flank attack had crushed the enemy's left and driven
it back on its second line a mile or so to the rear. Courage and
determination carried the day, and by the afternoon the whole of the
front Turkish position, and part of the second line was in the hands
of the British. The intensity of the fighting, however, did not abate.
The Turks pressed in counterattacks at several points from their
second position on which they had fallen back. Twelve Turkish guns
were captured, taken again by the enemy, recaptured by the British,
and retaken finally by the Turks, and so the fighting went on until a
merciful darkness fell, and, as if by mutual agreement, the fire of
both sides, too weary for more, died away."

Nuredin Pasha's forces were numerically far superior to the British.
General Townshend had only four brigades, while the Turkish commander
had four divisions, and was much stronger in artillery.

The Turkish commander, who was well informed as to the strength or
weakness of the British force, may well have looked forward to an easy
victory. But the many successes gained by British arms during the
campaign in Mesopotamia had not failed to impress the Turkish troops
and the tribesmen, their allies, with a wholesome respect for British
valor. If General Townshend had been reenforced by another division
that might easily have been spared to him from the army that had been
in training in India for ten months previous, he could have smashed
the Turks at Ctesiphon and conquered Mesopotamia. As it was, the
British victory was all but complete. An entire Turkish division was
destroyed. They took 1,600 prisoners and large quantities of arms and
ammunition. But these successes had been dearly won. Some of the
British battalions lost half their men. According to the best
authorities the British casualties totaled 4,567, of whom 643 were
killed, 3,330 wounded, and 594 men not accounted for. According to the
Turkish accounts of the Battle of Ctesiphon, which emanated from
Constantinople, the British had 170,000 men in action, and their
losses exceeded 5,000. This estimate of General Townshend's strength
was far from the truth. At no time did the British commander's troops
number more than 25,000, and 16,000 men would be a liberal estimate of
his striking force.

A graphic description of what followed the battle is furnished by a
letter home, written by an officer who participated in the struggle.

"The cold of the night, want of water, the collecting of the wounded,
gave little rest to the men, though many snatched a few hours' sleep
in the trenches among the dead. Dawn of November 23, 1915, broke with
a tearing wind and a dust storm which obscured the landscape for some
hours, and then the air, becoming clearer, allowed us to take in the
scene of the fight. Whatever losses we suffered the Turks must have
suffered even more severely. They had fought desperately to the end,
knowing that to attempt to escape over the open ground was to court
instant death. The trenches were full of their dead, and here and
there a little pile of men showed where a lucky shell had fallen.
Ctesiphon loomed through the dust before us, still intact for all the
stream of shell which had passed it, for our gunners had been asked
not to hit the ancient monument.

"The early part of the morning was occupied in clearing to the rear
the transport which had come up to the first line during the night. At
about ten o'clock the air cleared and the enemy's artillery began to
boom fitfully. Their guns from across the river began to throw heavy
shells over us, and as the light grew better it developed into an
artillery duel which lasted throughout the day. General Townshend
during the afternoon parked his transport two miles to the rear, and
while holding the front line of the Turkish position swung his right
back to cover his park. In the late afternoon the artillery fire
briskened, and long lines of Turkish infantry could be seen in the
half light advancing against the British. The first attack was
delivered against our left just after dark with a heavy burst of fire,
and from then until four o'clock the next morning the Turkish force,
strengthened by fresh troops that had arrived from Bagdad, flung
themselves against us and attempted to break the line. On three
separate occasions during the night were infantry columns thrown right
up against the position at different points, and each effort was
heralded by wild storms of artillery and infantry fire. The line held,
and before dawn had broken the Turks had withdrawn, subsequently to
re-form on their third position on the banks of the Dialah River."

By November 24, 1915, the casualties had been evacuated to the ships
eight miles to the rear. The British force remained on the position
which they had won for another day and then withdrew toward
Kut-el-Amara.

General Townshend's force reached the Kut on or about December 5,
1915, having fought some rear-guard actions on the way, and lost
several hundred men. The news had been skillfully spread about the
country that the Turks had won a great victory at Ctesiphon, in proof
of which it was known that the British were retreating, and that the
Turkish forces were in pursuit. These facts had the usual effect on
the Arabs, who had been friendly to the British, and who now deserted
them to join forces with the Turks. For the wily nomads are ever ready
to go over to the side which seems to be winning, for then there is
promise of much loot. There is no profit in aiding lost causes or the
weaker side.

An officer describing General Townshend's retreat on Kut-el-Amara
through a country swarming with hostile Arabs has this to say: "It
speaks well for the spirit of the troops under his command that, in
the face of overwhelming numbers the retirement was carried out with
cheerfulness and steadiness beyond all praise, and not even the
prisoners, of whom 1,600 had been captured at Ctesiphon, were allowed
to fall into the hands of the enemy. The country around is perfectly
flat, covered with short grass or shrub, though here and there old
irrigation channels make it difficult for carts or motor cars to
negotiate. The operations above the Kut were carried out by land,
though ships bore an important part in bringing up supplies and the
thousand and one things required by an army in the field. An enemy
report was published to the effect that the Turks had captured one of
our armored trains. It will not be giving away a military secret when
I say that no railway of any sort exists south of Bagdad."

How closely General Townshend was pressed by the enemy in his retreat
to Kut-el-Amara is evident from an officer's letter: "We found the
Turks in camps sitting all around us. We had to fight a rear-guard
action all day and marched twenty-seven miles before we halted. After
lying down for two or three hours, we marched on fifteen miles more to
within four miles of the Kut. Here we had to stop for a time because
the infantry were too tired to move."




CHAPTER LIV

STAND AT KUT-EL-AMARA--ATTEMPTS AT RELIEF


Kut-el-Amara, where General Townshend and his troops were so long
besieged, stands on the left bank of the Tigris, almost at the water's
level, with sloping sand hills rising to the north. The desert beyond
the river is broken here and there by deep nullahs which, when they
are filled with water after a rainfall, are valuable defensive
features of the country. Five miles from the town, and surrounding it
on all sides but the waterside, is a series of field forts of no great
value against heavy artillery. Had the Turks been equipped with large
guns such as the Germans employed in Europe these fortifications would
have been shattered to pieces in a few hours. But the forts proved
useful.

The spaces between them were filled with strong barbed-wire
entanglements and carefully prepared intrenchments. To the southeast
the position was further strengthened by a wide marshy district that
lies just outside the fortified line. General Townshend was holding a
position that was about fifteen miles in circumference, to adequately
protect which it would have been necessary for him to have twice as
many men as were at his disposal. For one of the lessons that has been
learned in the Great War is that 5,000 men, including reserves, are
required to the mile to properly defend a position. General
Townshend's occupation of the Kut was therefore precarious, and he
could only hope to hold out until the arrival of reenforcements which
had been held back by the Turks when they were within sight of the
British general's position.

The Turkish success in checking the British advance and in bottling up
General Townshend's troops in Kut-el-Amara had inspired them with hope
and courage and the town was subjected to almost constant bombardment.
Confident of the outcome the Turks fought with considerable bravery.

It was known to the Turks that reenforcements had been sent to the
relief of the British commander, and they hoped to capture the Kut
before these arrived. On December 8, 1915, they shelled the British
position all day; the bombardment was continued on the 9th and they
made some desultory attacks on all sides. From the British point of
view the attitude of the Arabs at this time was satisfactory. General
Townshend received encouraging news that a relieving force was pushing
its way rapidly to his aid.

On December 10, 1915, the Kut was again heavily bombarded by the Turks
and an attack was developed against the northern front of the
position, which however was not pressed. On the day following the
bombardment was continued. Two attacks made on the northern front of
the British position were repulsed, the enemy losing many men.

December 11, 1915, the bombardment was renewed. The Turks reported the
capture of Sheik Saad on the line of retreat, twenty-five miles east
of the Kut. They also gave out a statement that the British had lost
700 men in this fight.

Heavy musketry fire marked the Turkish offensive on December 12, 1915.
They attacked on the same day a river village on the right bank of the
Tigris, but were repulsed with heavy casualties. It was estimated by
the British commander that the Turks lost at least 1,000 men during
this abortive attack.

British losses at the Kut since their return totaled 1,127, including
200 deaths, 49 from disease. Reenforcements were constantly joining
the Turkish besieging army, and it was estimated that in the first
weeks of December, 1915, they had been strengthened by 20,000 men.
Every day the enemy's ring of steel became stronger, while the British
were in such a position that if the Kut became untenable they could
not retreat with any hope of success. If forced out into the open,
there would be nothing left for them to do but surrender.

A sortie of British and Indian troops was made on December 17, 1915,
who surprised the enemy in the advanced trenches, killed 30, and took
11 prisoners and returned without suffering any casualties.

On or about this date, on the Sinai Peninsula, a British
reconnoitering party routed a hostile band of Arabs near Matruh,
losing 15 men killed and 15 wounded, 3 of whom were officers. The
Arabs had 35 killed and 17 taken prisoners.

On December 24, 1915, the Turks having made a breach in the north
bastion of one of the Kut forts succeeded in forcing their way in, but
were repulsed, leaving 200 dead. On Christmas Day there was fierce
fighting again at this point, when the Turks once more entered through
the breach and were driven out with heavy losses.

The garrison consisting of the Oxford Light Infantry and the 103d,
being reenforced by the Norfolk Regiment and 104th Pioneers, drove the
Turks back over their second line of trenches and reoccupied the
bastion. The total British losses in the fighting on Christmas Day
were 71 killed, of whom three were officers, one missing, and 309
wounded. It was estimated that the enemy lost about 700.

The Turks continued to bombard the Kut almost hourly, but the only
serious damage effected by their fire was when on December 30, 1915,
shells burst through the roof of the British hospital and wounded a
few men.

General Aylmer's leading troops under General Younghusband of the
British force sent to relieve the besieged army at the Kut left Ali
Gherbi on January 4, 1916. Following up both banks of the Tigris,
British cavalry came in contact with the enemy on the following day.
These advanced Turkish troops were on the right bank of the river and
few in number, but farther on at Sheik Saad, the enemy in considerable
strength occupied both sides of the river. On January 6, 1916, the
British infantry attacked and then dug itself in in front of the
Turkish position on the right bank. In the morning of the following
day by adroit maneuvering, the British cavalry succeeded in getting
around to the rear of the enemy's trenches on the right bank and
destroyed nearly a whole battalion, taking over 550 prisoners.

Among the number of captives were sixteen officers. Several mountain
guns were also taken. The British casualties were heavy, especially
among the infantry.

The remainder of General Aylmer's force having advanced from Ali
Gherbi, January 6, 1916, fought a simultaneous action on the left bank
of the river while the action on the right bank just described was in
progress.

Early in the afternoon of this day the British forces were subjected
to heavy rifle and Maxim fire from the Turkish trenches 1,200 yards
away. The hazy, dusty atmosphere made it difficult to see with any
accuracy the enemy's defenses. Their numerous trenches were most
carefully concealed. Toward evening the Turkish cavalry attempted an
enveloping move against the British right, but coming under the fire
of the British artillery, that move failed. Finding the resistance of
the Turkish infantry too strong, the British troops abandoned any
further offensive and intrenched in the positions they had won. Later
in the evening the Turks suddenly evacuated their defenses and
retired. A heavy rainfall hindered the British commander from
pursuing, and a stop was made at Sheik Saad to enable him to get his
wounded away. The Turks finding that General Aylmer did not pursue,
fell back on Es Sinn, from which they had been ousted by General
Townshend in September of the previous year. The Turkish version of
the Battle of Sheik Saad estimated the British losses at 3,000.

On January 12, 1916, the Turks advanced from Es Sinn to the Wadi, a
stream that flows into the Tigris about twenty-four miles from
Kut-el-Amara. Here the British relieving force came in touch with the
enemy on January 13, 1916, and a hotly contested struggle ensued that
lasted all day long. The British force consisted of three divisions.
One of these, occupying a position on the south bank of the Tigris,
was being opposed by a column under General Kemball. On the northern
bank General Aylmer's troops engaged two divisions in the neighborhood
of the Wadi.

On January 14, 1916, the Turkish army began a general retreat and
General Aylmer moved his headquarters and transport forward to the
mouth of the Wadi. On the day following the whole of the Wadi position
was captured by the British relieving force, and the Turkish rear
guard again took up a position at Es Sinn. It was reported that German
officers were with the Turkish force.

Further military operations against the Turks were delayed by storms
of great violence that continued for about ten days. General Aylmer
found it impossible to move his troops through the heavy mire, and not
until January 21, 1916, could he advance and attack the Turks who
after their retreat occupied a position near Felahie, about
twenty-three miles from Kut-el-Amara. Here a brisk engagement was
fought in the midst of torrents of rain that greatly hindered
operations. The struggle was indecisive. Owing to the floods, General
Aylmer could not attack on the following day, but took up a position
about 1,300 yards from the enemy's trenches.

Mr. Edmund Candler, the well-known English writer, who was with the
British troops operating on the Tigris, furnishes some striking
details of the engagement. His picturesque description of what took
place at this point in General Aylmer's advance to relieve the
besieged army at the Kut, shows the desperate character of the Turkish
resistance:

"The Turks were holding a strong position between the left bank of the
Tigris and the Suweki Marsh, four miles out of our camp. It was a
bottle-neck position, with a mile and a half of front: there was no
getting around them, and the only way was to push through.

"We intrenched in front of them. On January 20, 1916, we bombarded
them with all our guns and again on the morning of the 21st
preparatory to a frontal attack.

"At dawn the rifle fire began, and the tap-tap-tap of the Maxims,
steady and continuous, with vibrations like two men wrestling in an
alternate grip, tightening and relaxing." It was not light enough for
the gunners to see the registering marks, but at a quarter before
eight in the morning the bombardment began. "The thunderous orchestra
of the guns shook the earth and rent the skies. Columns of earth rose
over the Turkish lines, and pillars of smoke, green and white and
brown and yellow, and columns of water, where a stray shell--Turkish
no doubt--plunged into the Tigris.

"The enemy lines must have been poor cover, and I was glad we had the
bulk of the guns on our side. All this shell fire should have been a
covering roof to our advance, but the Turk it appears was not skulking
as he ought.

"The B's came by in support and occupied an empty trench. They were
laughing and joking, but it was a husky kind of fun, and there was no
gladness in it, for everyone knew that we were in for a bloody day.
One of them tripped upon a telegraph wire. 'Not wounded yet!' a pal
cried. Just then another stumbled to an invisible stroke and did not
rise. A man ahead was singing nervously, 'That's not the girl I saw
you with at Brighton.'

"I went on to the next trench where a sergeant showed me his
bandolier. A sharp-nosed bullet had gone through three rounds of
ammunition and stuck in the fourth, during the last rush forward.

"I could conceive of the impulse that carried one over those last two
hundred yards--but as an impulse of a lifetime; to most of my friends
this kind of thing was becoming their daily bread. The men I was with
were mostly a new draft. I could see they were afraid, but they were
brave. Word was passed along to advance to the next bit of cover.

"The bombardment had ceased. The rifle and Maxim fire ahead was
continuous, like hail on a corrugated roof of iron. The B's would soon
be in it. I listened eagerly for some intermission, but it did not
relax or recede, and I knew that the Turks must be holding on. The
bullets became thicker--an ironic whistle, a sucking noise, a gluck
like a snipe leaving mud, the squeal and rattle of shrapnel.

"I found the brigade headquarters. We had got into the Turkish
trenches, the general told me, but by that time we were sadly thin,
and we had been bombed out. At noon the rain came down, putting the
crown upon depression. All day and all night it poured, and one
thought of the wounded, shivering in the cold and mud, waiting for
help. At night they were brought in on slow, jolting transport carts."

The writer met a boy, the only officer of his regiment who had come
out of the trenches alive and unwounded, and who had a bullet through
his pocket and another through his helmet. He was in a dazed state of
wonder at finding himself still alive.

"It was a miracle that anyone had lived through that fire in the
attack and retreat, but the boy had been in the Turkish trenches and
held them for an hour and a quarter. Oddments of other regiments had
got through, two British and two Indian. I saw their dead being
carried out during the truce of the next day."

The boy officer's regiment had been the first to penetrate the enemy's
trenches. As he dropped into the trench a comrade next to him was
struck in the back of the head and dropped forward on his shoulder. "I
saw eight bayonets and rifles all pointing to me," said the boy
officer describing his experiences. "I saw the men's faces, and I was
desperately scared. I expected to go down in the next two yards. I
felt the lead in my stomach. I thought I was done for. I don't know
why they didn't fire. They must have been frightened by my sudden
appearance. I let off my revolver at them and it kicked up an awful
lot of dust."

The British troops that had charged the Turkish trenches were not
supplied with bombs, but the enemy were well equipped with them.
Consequently the British were gradually driven down the trench from
traverse to traverse, in the direction of the river, where they
encountered another bombing party that was coming up a trench at right
angles. The British were placed in a desperate position, being jammed
in densely between these attacks, and literally squeezed over the
parapet. In evacuating the trench they were subjected to a deadly fire
in which they lost more men than in the attack.

[Illustration: The British Campaign in Mesopotamia.]

The uniform flatness of the terrain in this region and entire absence
of cover for the attacker, whether the movement be frontal or
enveloping, was responsible for the heavy losses the British incurred
in this engagement. Here there were no protecting villages, hedges, or
banks. A swift, headlong rush that could be measured in seconds was
impossible under the circumstances. At 2000 yards the British infantry
came under rifle fire, and had no communication trenches to curtail
the zone of fire. An armistice was concluded on January 21, 1916, for
a few hours, to allow for the removal of the wounded and the burial of
the dead. In forty-eight hours the Tigris had risen as high as seven
feet in some places and the country around was under water, which
effectually prevented all movements of troops by land.

General Townshend meanwhile, besieged at Kut-el-Amara, continued
cheerfully to repel attacks and to await the arrival of the relieving
force. He was well supplied with stores, and there was no fear of a
famine. He described his troops at this time as being in the best of
spirits. Evidently he was not in a position to be of any assistance to
the relieving force, whose advance had been delayed by the storms. At
the close of January, 1916, he reported that the enemy had evacuated
their trenches on the land side of the Kut defenses, and had retired
to a position about a mile away from the British intrenchments.

The floods of January, 1916, were a distinct benefit to General
Townshend, for the Turks, intrenched in a loop of the Tigris, were
driven out by the deluge and compelled to seek higher ground.

In the first days of February, 1916, Sir Percy Lake, who had succeeded
Sir John Nixon to the chief command of the British forces in
Mesopotamia, dispatched General Brooking from Nasariyeh with a column
up the River Shatt-el-Har, a branch of the Tigris, to make a
reconnaissance. On February 7, 1916, on his way back, General Brooking
was attacked by hostile Arabs near Butaniyeh. He was also attacked by
tribesmen who had been considered friendly to the British and who
issued from villages along the route. There was some sharp fighting in
which the losses were heavy on both sides. The British had 373 men
killed or wounded, while the Arab dead numbered 636. On the 9th a
small punitive expedition was sent against the treacherous tribesmen,
and four Arab villages were destroyed. The incident offered another
striking proof that no dependence could be placed on the faith of the
Arabs.

General Aylmer finding, after his failure at Felahie, that his force
was too weakened physically to attempt to break through to relieve the
beleaguered division at the Kut, decided to intrench in the position
then occupied by his troops and to await the reenforcements which were
on the way.

On February 17-19, 1916, hostile aeroplanes dropped bombs on the Kut,
without doing any damage, General Townshend reported. For two and a
half months the British army had been bottled up in this river town,
and the Turks had tried every means to dislodge them.

On February 22, 1916, British columns under General Aylmer advanced up
the river on the right bank to Um-el-Arak, occupying a position which
commanded the Turkish camp behind their trenches at El Henna, a marsh
on the left bank. At daybreak the British guns opened a heavy
bombardment on the enemy's camp across the Tigris, which at this point
makes a sharp bend to the north. The Turks were evidently taken by
surprise, for a lively stampede followed.

On March 6, 1916, General Aylmer marched up the Tigris to the Turkish
position at Es Sinn, which is only seven miles from Kut-el-Amara. This
is a Turkish stronghold and was carried by General Townshend on his
way to the Kut. The position had been greatly strengthened since that
time, that General Aylmer could hardly have hoped to succeed in
driving the enemy out. But the effort had to be made, and resulted in
a failure. The enemy lost heavily according to the British accounts,
while their own casualties were unimportant. The Turkish version of
the struggle was as follows:

"On the morning of March 8, 1916, the enemy attacked from the right
bank of the Tigris with his main force. The fighting lasted until
sunset. Assisted by reenforcements hastily brought to his wing by his
river fleet, he succeeded in occupying a portion of our trenches, but
the latter were completely recaptured by a heroic counterattack by our
reserves, the enemy being then driven back to his old positions."

Owing to the lack of water, General Aylmer was forced to fall back on
the Tigris. On March 10, 1916, information reached the Tigris corps
that the Turks had occupied an advanced position on the river. The
following day a British column was sent to turn the enemy out. The
British infantry daringly assaulted the position and bayoneted a
considerable number of the Turks, after which the column withdrew.




PART XI--THE WAR IN THE AIR




CHAPTER LV

DEVELOPMENT OF THE STRATEGY AND TACTICS OF AIR FIGHTING


The student or observer of the Great European War inevitably must be
impressed with its impersonal character. Everywhere masses and
organizations rule supreme, and men and material are thought of and
used as aggregations rather than as individuals and units for
destruction and defense. The individual, save as he gives himself up
to the great machine, everywhere is inconspicuous, and while no less
courage is demanded than in the days of the short-range weapons and
personal combat, yet the heroic note of personal valor and initiative
in most cases is unheard, and the individual is sunk in the mass. One
is almost tempted to believe that chivalry and individual heroism no
longer bulk large in the profession of arms, and that in the place of
the knightly soldier there is the grim engineer at telescope or
switchboard, touching a key to produce an explosion that will melt
away yards of trenches and carry to eternity not tens but hundreds and
thousands of his fellows; there are barriers charged with deadly
currents; guns hurling tons of metal at a foe invisible to the
gunners, whose position is known only by mathematical deductions from
observers at a distance.

All of this and much more the engineer has brought to
twentieth-century warfare, and the grim fact remains that trained
masses are used, made and destroyed in vain attempts at an object
often unknown to the individual.

Accordingly, when we turn to the work of the aviators we pass back
from the consideration of the mass to the individual. Whatever may be
the airman's convictions as to the ethics of the Great War, always his
duty and his adversary are well defined, and it is his personal
devotion, his skill and daring, his resourcefulness and intrepidity
that are to-day playing no small part on the battle fronts of Europe.
He too is an engineer with scientific and technical knowledge and
training that control the most delicate of machines ever at the mercy
of the elements, and engineer and scientist have supplied him with
instruments and equipments embodying the results of refined research
and investigation. Withal, he is a soldier, yet not one of a mere mass
aggregation, but an individual on whose faithful and intelligent
performance of his duty mid extreme perils the issue of a great cause
may depend. But not entirely a free-lance, for experience in aerial
warfare has shown that in the air, as on the ground, harmony of action
and plan of operation avail and contribute to success. Consequently,
with the development of military aeronautics during the course of the
war, the work of the flying corps, with training and practical
experience, gradually became more systematic and far more efficient.

While many of their achievements were distinctly sensational,
involving extreme personal daring and heroism, yet usually the general
operations were as methodical and prearranged as other forms of
military activity carried on by the different armies on the ground
below. No longer were single aeroplanes used exclusively, but large
numbers of machines were brought to bear, with the pilots drilled not
only in the manipulation of their individual machines, but to work
with others in military formations and groups, while increased
attention was paid to weapons and the protection of vulnerable parts.

The flying craft cooperated constantly with the intelligence
departments of the various staffs, observing the enemy positions, the
distribution and movement of troops, and photographing the territory,
and their observations were not only useful but essential to the
artillery engaged so extensively in indirect fire. As their work
became more practical and understood, it was the more appreciated and
its volume increased. Indeed, by the summer of 1915 the aviation corps
of the various belligerent armies in Europe had settled down to more
or less of a routine of observation, reconnaissance, and patrol,
enlivened by bombing expeditions against the enemy and frequent aerial
combats. What once would have been considered feats of usual
intrepidity and skill on the part of the aviators, long since had
become commonplace, and the standard of operation developed to a
degree that at the beginning of the war would have been considered
phenomenal.

Reconnaissance was actively in progress on all of the battle fronts,
combats in the air were more frequent, bombing expeditions were
conducted across the frontiers, and with a constantly increasing
supply of new and improved machines, and freshly trained aviators, the
work progressed, so that before the end of 1915, on the part of the
Allies at least, there was probably ten times as much flying as at the
beginning of the year. Even when the heavy fogs pervading the battle
fields of western Europe in the early part of 1916 prevented other
operations, reconnaissance was actively carried on, and this, with the
routine work of determining ranges, positions, etc., for the
artillery, in active progress, gave little quiet to the airmen. With
the development of the war there was a constantly increasing demand on
the skill of the aviators.

Many of the places from which it was necessary to begin flights did
not furnish good starting, and often the same condition held as
regards the landing places. Furthermore, flying was attended with much
greater danger, with a corresponding increase in fatalities, on
account of the improvements in the antiaircraft guns and ranging
apparatus and the skill of the gunners. Withal, all official reports
agree in stating that the proportion of casualties was smaller in the
air service than in other branches of the service. There has been an
ever-increasing number of combats in the air. Often when aeroplanes
were observed in reconnaissance the enemy would make an attack upon
them in force and endeavor to destroy the machines. Indeed, this was a
marked tendency of the war, and the record from the first of August
would show not only an increased number of duels between individual
machines, but of skirmishes between air patrols, and contests in which
a number of machines would attack in force opposing aeroplanes.

As the war developed there was an increased tendency toward the
tactical maneuvering of a number of aeroplanes, a greater frequency of
bombing raids, and these attempts naturally led to reprisals as well
as to defensive efforts. Often the aeroplanes designed for dropping
bombs were heavy and powerful machines, not armed primarily for
attack, but depending for protection upon one or more fighting
aeroplanes of greater maneuvering power which accompanied them and
carried machine guns and other weapons. In these bombing raids the
tendency was to use a number of machines. In the raids of October 2,
1915, on the stations of Vosiers and Challeranges, sixty-five machines
were employed. A few days later a fleet of eighty-four French
aeroplanes made a raid on the German lines, starting from an aerodrome
near Nancy. Since then raids by large flocks of aeroplanes have become
common.

One important objective of such attacks was the destruction of the
enemy's communication, and the bombing of railway trains bringing up
supplies or reenforcements, became a most important feature. Often
this involved considerable daring on the part of the pilot and his
companion, as to insure a successful dropping of bombs the aeroplanes
had to descend to comparatively low levels. The British Royal Flying
Corps on several occasions dropped bombs from a height hardly more
than 500 feet, and in the operations at the end of September, 1915,
within five days, nearly six tons of explosives were dropped on moving
trains with considerable damage.

The most striking feature, perhaps in the work of the aeroplanes, was
the increased height of flight which developing conditions made
necessary. At the beginning of the war it was assumed that overhead
reconnaissance could be carried on in safety at a height of from 4,000
to 6,000 feet above the surface of the earth. At such altitude it was
assumed that the aeroplane was safe from terrestrial artillery on
account of offering so small a target, as well as on account of its
speed and the difficulty of determining its range, but this condition
of affairs did not long remain. Both armies, and particularly the
Germans, acquired experience in the use of their antiaircraft guns,
and improved weapons were placed at their disposal, so that it was not
long before the gunners could cause their shrapnel to burst with
deadly effect some three miles in vertical height above the ground,
and up to 10,000 feet their shooting compelled the admiration of the
aviators of the Allies.

Such efficient gunnery practice, of course, contributed to the loss of
life among the aviators and the destruction of machines,
notwithstanding the constantly increased height of flying. In some
cases aeroplanes managed to reach the ground safely with as many as
300 bullet holes, but in other cases a single bullet sufficed to kill
the aviator or to hit a vital part, and this was a compelling reason
for armoring the aeroplanes and protecting their engines and controls.

All of this naturally produced a higher standard of skill in the
European armies than was ever before realized, and the training of new
aviators, especially in the light of war experience, was carried on in
large part by convalescent members of the aviation corps who had seen
actual service in the field, so that the quota of recruits was not
only maintained but supplied, trained to a high degree of efficiency.

The progress of the war marked changes in the tactics of the aerial
services of the various armies. The French and English believed that
in the course of the war the Germans had lost a number of their most
skilled and intrepid aviators, and that the expert pilots were held in
readiness for more serious effort rather than being sacrificed for any
contests of doubtful outcome. The Germans for a time became more
cautious in their fights over the French lines, and in the summer and
autumn of 1915 seldom crossed. This probably was due in large part to
the increased number of aeroplanes at the disposal of the French and
English. Apparently for a number of weeks there was a decrease in the
reckless flights on the part of the Germans and desire to give battle,
and more attention was paid to developing tactical efficiency and
securing military results. Often their aeroplanes operated in
connection with the artillery, and in many cases their object was to
draw the Allies' machines within range of the German antiaircraft
artillery, which was efficiently served.

A complete chronicle of the flights and air battles of the period of
the war under review would contain a record where hardly a day passed
without some flight or contest of greater or less significance. A duel
between two hostile airmen might be of less importance than an
exchange of shots between members of opposing outposts, yet it might
involve heroic fighting and a skillful manipulation of aeroplane and
machine gun, when one or both of the contestants might be thrown
headlong to the ground. So for these pages we may select some of the
more significant of the battles in the air with the understanding that
many of those ignored were not without their vital interest.




CHAPTER LVI

ZEPPELIN RAIDS--ATTACKS ON GERMAN ARMS FACTORIES--GERMAN OVER-SEA
RAIDS


The second year of the war opened with a spirited combat between the
German and French aeroplanes, on August 1, 1915, when six attacking
German machines engaged fifteen French machines over Château Salins.
This fight, which at the time was widely discussed, lasted
three-quarters of an hour, and as the French reenforcements came the
Germans retreated to their own lines, though it was reported that
several of the French machines were disabled and forced to land.
Regarding this contest the opinion was expressed that the French were
inadequately armed to fight the Germans, and that the latter were not
driven back until armed scouts had joined the French. Furthermore, it
was believed that the German aeroplanes were more heavily armed than
those previously employed, and represented a new and more powerful
type of machine. If the French suffered in this battle for lack of
armament, the lesson was taken to heart, for the following week a
French squadron of thirty-two units, including bombing machines
convoyed by a flotilla of armed scouts (_avions de chasse_) made an
attack on the station and factories of Saarbrücken.

There was air war over sea as well as over land. On August 3, 1915, a
squadron of Russian seaplanes attacked a German gunboat near Windau
and forced her to run ashore, while the same squadron attacked a
Zeppelin and two German seaplanes, one of which was shot down. The
Russians the following day attacked Constantinople and dropped a
number of bombs on the harbor fortifications. That the advantage was
not entirely with the Allies at this time was shown by the report that
on August 10, 1915, a Turkish seaplane attacked an ally submarine near
Boulair. The Russian seaplanes were again successful on August 10,
1915, when they participated in the repulse of the Germans off the
Gulf of Riga, where they attempted to land troops. The Russians had
merely small sea craft such as torpedo boats and submarines in this
engagement, but their seaplanes proved very effective, and the Germans
retired with a cruiser and two torpedo boats damaged.

After the attack by German Zeppelins on the east coast of England in
June, 1915, there was a lull in the activity of the German airships.
Count Zeppelin had stated early in the spring that in August fifteen
airships of a new type capable of carrying at least two tons of
explosives would be available, and accordingly, when a squadron of
five Zeppelins were sighted off Vlieland, near the entrance of the
Zuyder Zee, pointed for England, it was realized that attempted aerial
invasion was being resumed in earnest. These airships bombed war
vessels in the Thames, the London docks, torpedo boats near Harwich,
and military establishments on the Humber, with the result, slight in
its military importance, of some twenty-eight casualties and a number
of fires due to incendiary bombs. This attack encountered resistance
and counterattacks from the British aerial services, not without
effect, but lacking in positive achievement. One Zeppelin was damaged
by the gunfire of the land defenses, and upon her return an Ally
aeroplane squadron from Dunkirk attacked the disabled airship and
finally blew her up after she had fallen into the sea off Ostend.

It was realized, particularly by the British, that the best way to
meet the Zeppelins was by aeroplane attack, yet on the raid just
described, the great airships entirely escaped the British aviators.
This Zeppelin raid was followed by a second on the night of August
12-13, 1915, which was directed against the military establishment at
Harwich. Six people were killed and seventeen wounded by the bombs,
and the post office was set on fire by an incendiary bomb. Aside from
this, damage was limited. On August 17 and 18, 1915, a squadron of
four Zeppelins again attacked the English east coast, and their bombs
killed ten persons and wounded thirty-six. Once again the airships
were able to escape the British air patrols and made their escape
apparently without damage, though one, the _L-10_, while flying over
Vlieland, Holland, was fired upon by Dutch troops.

An important effect of the Zeppelin raids was to bring the war
directly to the experience of the British public, and the effect on
recruiting as well as in arousing an increased national spirit for
defense was marked. On the other hand, in Germany the Zeppelin raids
produced great elation, and the German populace anticipated that the
aerial invasion of Great Britain would contribute materially toward
the conclusion of the war.

In the early summer of 1915 there had been rather less activity on the
war front in eastern France and Flanders, especially on the part of
the Germans, and as later developments proved, they apparently were
engaged in experiments with new types of machines and engines. There
was also in this time a manifestation of increased skill on the part
of the German air pilots, so that when the new machines were brought
out they were handled with skill and ease, especially when climbing to
the upper air and dodging the shells from antiaircraft guns of the
Allies.

In the meantime, and especially during August, 1915, the French began
to develop bombing attacks against German arms and ammunition
factories, railway junctions, and other military establishments, on a
scale never before attempted in aerial warfare. Toward the middle of
the month as many as eighty-four French aeroplanes were assembled for
a flight over the German lines, and so carefully were these aviators
trained that in less than four minutes the eighty-four aeroplanes were
in the sky, arranged in perfect tactical formation. On this particular
occasion a reconnaissance was made in force, and the various
evolutions and the distributions of the machines were carefully tried.
With such practice, on August 25, 1915, a French aerial squadron,
including sixty-two aviators, flew over the heights of Dilligen in
Rhenish Prussia, thirty miles southeast of Trèves, and dropped more
than 150 bombs, thirty of which were of large caliber. This raid,
while successful in many respects, was not without damage, for the
French lost four aeroplanes. One fell to earth on fire near Bolzhen
with the pilot and observer killed. A second was captured by the
Germans, together with its occupants, near Romilly, a third was forced
to land near Arracourt, north of Lunéville, and was destroyed by
German artillery, and the fourth landed within range of the German
guns near Moevruns, south of Nomeny, behind the French front. On this
very day a second French squadron bombed the German camps of Pannes
and Baussant, starting fires, and discharged bombs over other German
stations and bivouacs. In Argonne stations were bombarded as well as
the aviation park of Vitry-en-Artois. Allied fleets of French,
British, and Belgian aeroplanes, both of the land and sea services,
comprising some sixty machines in all, bombarded the wood of Houthulst
and set a number of fires.

It must not be inferred that at this time there was any lack of
individual effort or achievement. Often bombs were dropped at
important stations on lines of communication, and on August 26, 1915,
a poisoned gas plant at Dornach was bombed by a French aeroplane and
ten shells dropped.

[Illustration: German aeroplane guns, mounted on turntables. They can
be turned quickly to any direction and to whatever angle of elevation
is required.]

On the other side, during the month of August, 1915, and particularly
toward the end, raiding expeditions were organized by the Germans, and
on August 28, 1915, an attack on Paris was organized, in which six
German aeroplanes were to take part. This furnished a striking test of
the French aerial defenses, for none of the German aeroplanes was able
to get near Paris, and in the attempt one was shot to pieces by a
French gun plane which overtook the German and riddled the machine
with bullets, causing it to fall in flames with the pilot incinerated.
The German aeroplanes were first discovered by the French scouts as
they flew over the French battle front at so great a speed and height
that attack from the ground from the parks near the battle lines was
impossible. The alarm was given by telephone, however, while north of
Paris the French patrol flotilla was found in readiness. The Germans
were forced to retreat, and in addition to the aeroplane shot down, as
already mentioned, another was fired upon after it had dropped five
bombs on Montmorency.

On September 3, 1915, a raid nearly 150 miles from the French base was
made by two French aviators on Donaueschingen and Marbach in Bavaria.
On the same day in retaliation for the German bombardment at Lunéville
and Compiègne the French air service sent out a squadron of nineteen
aeroplanes over the town of Trèves, which dropped about 100 shells.
The same squadron, after returning to its base, proceeded in the
afternoon to drop fifty-eight shells on the station at Dommary and on
Baroncour.

During September, 1915, the Germans resumed over-sea raids, and naval
airships attacked the city of London, with results considered
generally satisfactory, as German bombs were dropped on the western
part of the city, the factories at Norwich, and the harbor and iron
works near Middlesbrough. In this raid, made by three Zeppelins on the
night of September 8-9, 1915, the British reported as a result 20
killed, 14 seriously wounded, 74 slightly wounded. The Zeppelins flew
over Trafalgar Square, one of the innermost places of London, and were
clearly visible from the streets. They were attacked by antiaircraft
guns, and by aeroplanes, but the latter were unable to locate the
airships, whose bombs, both incendiary and explosive, fell on
buildings and in the streets. Later in the month of September other
Zeppelin raids occurred over various parts of the eastern countries of
England.

On September 22, 1915, French aviators made a spectacular raid and
shelled the royal palace and station at Stuttgart in the kingdom of
Württemburg. This was partly in retaliation for the bombarding by the
Germans of open towns and civilian populations, and in the course of
the attack about 100 shells were dropped on the royal palace and the
station, killing, according to German reports, four persons, and
wounding a number of soldiers and civilians, but without doing
important material damage. Antiaircraft opened fire on the French
raiders and they were forced to retire. In this attack the French
machines were painted with the German distinguishing marks, with the
result that after their attack a German airman arriving at Stuttgart
was fired on by the German troops until he was recognized as one of
their own officers, fortunately landing unhurt near the town.

During the first three weeks in September, 1915, the Royal Flying
Corps, with the British army in the field, was very active, and there
were forty air duels in eighteen days. During the first three weeks
four monoplanes were known to have been destroyed, and at least seven
others sent heavily to earth, and all survivors were, of course,
forced to retire to their own lines.

One notable contest by a British pilot took place one morning when he
beat off the first four German machines that had come to attack him,
one after the other, but by the time of the onslaught of the fifth, he
had exhausted all of his machine-gun and revolver ammunition. The
British airman proceeded to go through the motions of aiming and
firing his revolver, and the German pilot not realizing that the
weapon was useless, after firing a number of shots at him, retired, so
that the British officer was able to finish his reconnoitering and
return to his own lines.

On September 7, 1915, a furious battle in the plain sight of thousands
of soldiers occurred in midair, and resulted in the destruction of a
German aeroplane, which had been particularly active in ranging the
German guns, and had circled and signaled above the British positions,
apparently with considerable effect. A British aeroplane straightway
went out and attacked the German at a height of 9,000 feet above the
latter's lines, and the duel was in clear sight of the armies. Every
form of maneuver known to the expert pilot was indulged in, and in the
meantime, both foes were shooting at each other as rapidly as
possible. Finally the German aeroplane was seen to fall erratically at
an angle, nose downward, that indicated its probable destruction.

On September 13, 1915, two German aeroplanes were brought down by the
British within their lines, one of which fought a most thrilling
battle before it succumbed. It was a large biplane of considerable
speed, armed with two machine guns, one fore and one aft. Flying over
the British lines, it was sighted by the English, and a similar type
aeroplane attacked. A shot hit the German machine in the gasoline
tank, putting the motor out of commission, and, notwithstanding their
rapid fall, the aviators maintained their firing until the end. The
machine crashed to the earth, and both pilot and observer were killed,
but the aeroplane itself was not badly damaged. On the same day,
September 13, 1915, a German aeroplane visited the coast of Kent and
dropped bombs, which resulted in damage to a house and injured four
persons before it was chased off by two British naval aeroplanes.

Regarding the British aviation service, Field Marshal Sir John French,
in a dispatch to the secretary of state for war, said with special
reference to the fighting on September 25, 1915, at Artois, "that the
wing of the Royal Flying Corps attached to the Third Army performed
valuable work, and not only in times of actual battle, but throughout
the summer. They continuously cooperated with the artillery,
photographing the positions of the enemy, bombing their
communications, and reconnoitering far over hostile country." In the
period under review by the field marshal, he stated that there had
been more than 240 combats in the air, and in nearly every case the
British pilots had to seek out the Germans behind the German lines,
where their aeroplanes were aided by the fire of the movable
antiaircraft guns, and that they were successful in bringing down four
German machines behind the British trenches, and at least twelve in
the German lines, as well as putting out of action many others more or
less damaged.

While considerable has been made of the Zeppelins, the French airships
were also active during the war. One of the latter craft of this type,
the _Alsace_, having a capacity of 23,000 cubic meters (30,000 cubic
yards), on the night of September 30 and October 1, 1915, bombarded
the junction of Amagne-Lucquy, and the stations of Attigny and
Vouziers on the trunk-line railroad going through Luxemburg and the
Ardennes, which was the main supply line for the whole German line
from Verdun to the neighborhood of Novon. This airship made its
journey and returned safely. However, three days later, in a cruise in
the Reathel district, it was forced to land, and the crew were
captured by the Germans.

On October 3, 1915, a group of French aeroplanes started out to attack
Luxemburg, where the kaiser on his return from Russia had established
his headquarters. The station was bombarded at the railroad bridge and
also military buildings. The "group" that was used for this work
consisted of three flotillas and a flotilla leader, that is, a total
of nineteen aeroplanes.




CHAPTER LVII

ATTACKS ON LONDON--BOMBARDMENT OF ITALIAN PORTS--AEROPLANE AS COMMERCE
DESTROYER


On the evening of October 13, 1915, one of the most noted of the
Zeppelin raids over Great Britain occurred, with London as the
objective. The airships flew very high to avoid searchlights and
gunfire, thus interfering with the accuracy of the bomb dropping, and
in only one case was damage done to property connected with the
conduct of the war. The darkening of the city and the various
protective measures required high flying, so that the dropping of
bombs was more or less at random. The raid occurred in the early
evening, and while hundreds of thousands of persons heard the bursting
bombs and the guns, there was no panic, and the majority of the
citizens took shelter as they had been warned officially. An
investigation of the damage the next morning showed five distinct
areas where bombs containing high explosives had been dropped, and
the principal damage was where the explosion of the bombs falling into
subways containing gas and water pipes had ignited the former. In one
case a number of bombs were dropped on a suburban area where there
were no aerial defenses or searchlights, but in few cases were houses
actually struck or seriously damaged. Most of the damage was done to
people in the streets, and the effect on buildings, while serious,
possessed no military importance, and fires produced by incendiary
bombs were readily extinguished. The London police officials repeated
the warning to the citizens to remain within doors during any
subsequent air raids and advising them to keep at hand supplies of
water and sand as a safeguard against incendiary bombs.

In the raid of German Zeppelins over the British Isles on the night of
October 13-14, 1915, and the attack on London, forty-five were killed
and 114 wounded. It was reported during November that Great Britain
proposed to construct fifty dirigibles within two years to meet the
Zeppelin menace, and to construct each year a sufficient number to
secure complete mastery of the air for England. The attack produced a
degree of indignation and irritation that was more than proportional
to the damage done, and the Government was criticized for the
inadequacy of the protective measures.

After these air raids on Great Britain there was a lull in such
activities, but it was realized by the English that with the opening
of spring these attacks probably would be carried on with greater
vigor and determination, as there would be an increased number both of
Zeppelins and Schütte-Lanz airships. The atmospheric conditions
pervading the British Isles formed as important a defense against
airship attacks for almost half the year as actual military measures.
Several times fogs and high winds prevented attempts of this kind, and
it was realized by the German air pilots that unless weather
conditions were favorable flights should not be attempted. Therefore,
during the late autumn and winter of 1915-1916, they concerned
themselves with problems of construction and equipment, and the
training of air pilots rather than actual attempts.

In the meantime the Germans suffered by the destruction of several
Zeppelins. One was destroyed with its crew by colliding with a dummy
on October 18, 1915, near Maubeuge, and the _Z-28_ was lost near
Hamburg, and a third, whose number was unknown, at Bitterfeld, Saxony.
On December 5, 1915, the Russians brought down another Zeppelin near
Kalkun on the Libau-Romin railway, locating it with a powerful
searchlight and destroying it by artillery fire. The airship
previously had escaped several attacks after being caught by the
searchlights, but when it appeared for a second time over Kalkun, with
its motors silent, it was hit by gunfire. Another accident at Tondern
resulted in the destruction of the Zeppelin _Z-22_ during the first
week in December, 1915, this being the same station at which the
_Z-19_ was destroyed in the previous month. The _Z-22_ had been in
service only a few weeks, and was of the latest type, with invisible
gondolas, platforms at the top of the envelope, and detachable rafts
for use in case of accident while crossing the sea. Its destruction
was due to the accidental explosion of a bomb while the airship was
leaving the shed, and nearly all the forty members of the crew were
killed or wounded. Still another Zeppelin was reported to have been
destroyed by a storm in Belgium about December 12, 1915.

On November 15, 1915, two Austrian aeroplanes bombarded Brescia,
killing seven persons and wounding ten, all of whom were civilians,
and some of them women. None of the bombs hit any of the arms
factories of the city, which is about fifteen miles west of the
southern part of the Lago di Garda, while Verona, which was attacked
by Austrian aeroplanes on the previous Sunday, is about the same
distance east. The attack on Verona resulted in the death of thirty
persons and injury to about twice that number, and was made possible
in a degree by the fog which allowed the aircraft to approach close to
the city before they were discovered. They flew as low as 4,500 feet,
it is stated, each dropping five or six bombs. On November 18, 1915,
the Austrians' seaplane squadron dropped bombs on the forts at San
Nicole and Alberoni, and also on the arsenal, the aviation station,
gas works, railway station, and several parks at Venice. The Italians
attacked in turn, and there was a heavy fire of antiaircraft guns, but
the Austrian squadron retired in safety. On November 19, 1915,
Austrian aviators threw fifteen bombs on Udine, Italy, killing twelve
persons and wounding twenty-seven.

The activity of the Italian aero service developed in the course of
the war, and there were many combats between them and Austrian
aviators. On December 30, 1915, it was reported that during the naval
engagement off Durazzo an Austrian seaplane was shot down by an
Italian destroyer, while a fortnight later, January 12, 1916, when
four Austrian aeroplanes were attacking Rimini with bombs with little
success, one of them was brought down by fire from the main artillery
and shells from the warships. On January 13, 1916, Italian aeroplanes
dropped bombs on a barracks in the Breguzzo zone in the valley of the
Giudicaria, with success. On January 15, 1916, an Italian air squadron
made an extensive raid in the region of the East Isonzo and bombarded
the enemy aviation camp at Assevizza, the cantonments at Cihapovano
and Boruberg, and the railway stations at Longatica, Pregasina, and
Lubiana. This squadron was under continuous fire by antiaircraft
batteries, but returned in safety.

Reports from Montenegro during January, 1916, reported the activity of
Austrian aeroplanes in bombing operations. On January 7, 1916, an
Austrian aeroplane fell near Dulcigno, and the aviators were taken
prisoners.

On November 28, 1915, the French were successful in three battles in
the air and two raids. A French aeroplane in Belgium pursued a German
squadron and brought down one of the German machines in the sea off
Westende-Bains, between Nieuport and Ostend. On the same day ten
French aeroplanes set fire to the German hangars in Habsheim in
southern Alsace, and also damaged an aeroplane that was on the ground.
Two German machines that attempted a pursuit of the French were
repulsed, one being damaged by machine gunfire, and the other being
capsized. On the same day, near Nancy, French aeroplanes shot down a
German machine and put another to flight.

The Allies continued vigorously their attacks on various munition
plants and aero stations of the Germans. How much damage can be done
by aeroplane attacks was indicated in an item in the annual financial
statement of the Krupps, which was published during the year 1915 in a
German paper. This item reads: "Claims and damages due to the war, ten
million marks ($2,375,000)," and deals with the effect of the raid
over Essen by the airmen of the Allies.

The German aerodrome at Gits, containing fourteen machines, was
attacked, and at La Chapelette the ammunition factory with nineteen
machines was also the object of an attempt by the Allies. Some sixteen
British aeroplanes bombarded a stores depot at Miramont in the Somme
district, and the aerodrome at Hervilly. All of the machines returned
safely, and considerable damage was believed to have been done at the
above points.

The aeroplane as a commerce destroyer had a test on October 30, 1915,
when three German machines attacked the steamship _Avocet_ of the Cork
Steamship Company. One of these, a large battle plane, discharged some
thirty-six bombs, but none hit. With the supply of projectiles
exhausted, the battle plane, handled with great skill, opened gunfire
on the vessel, while the small planes crossed and recrossed, dropping
their bombs, but without effect. The aviators and their observers also
opened rifle fire on the steamer, but in the space of thirty-five
minutes they were unable to do any serious damage, and none of the
crew was injured. It was noted that the failure to fly low so as to
get sufficient accuracy for dropping the bombs was responsible for the
miscarriage of this attack.

The use of seaplanes to attack merchantmen and smaller warcraft became
a feature of the Austrian and German campaign, and in November and
December, 1915, several attacks were reported on steamers of the
Allies. Two German aeroplanes dropped bombs on a British patrol ship
off North Hinder Lightship in the North Sea on November 6, 1915, and
set her on fire. The French steamer _Harmonie_ was attacked in the
Mediterranean by an Austrian aeroplane, but none of the six bombs
which were dropped struck the vessel. Three German seaplanes attacked
a British cargo boat aground off the coast of Belgium, but before they
could succeed in destroying her with bombs, the attempt was reported
by the Allies' aero scouts, and a squadron of aeroplanes went to the
rescue. The Germans were forced to retire, while French torpedo boats
floated the British freighters.

One of the notable events of the year was the first seaplane battle
between the British and German seaplanes near Dunkirk on November 28,
1915. The British were successful, as they were also in an attack on a
large German seaplane by one of their aeroplanes patrolling off the
Belgian coast. The German machine was hit and fell on the sea,
bursting into flames and exploding on striking the water. No trace of
pilot, passengers, or machine could be found. The British aeroplane,
under command of Lieutenant Graham, was also damaged by gunfire and
fell into the sea, but the officers were picked up and safely landed.

The Allies, and particularly the British, employed aeroplanes chiefly
for patrolling their coasts, naval harbors and subsidiary fleet bases,
as well as the principal shipping lanes, in order to keep them clear
of the insidious action of hostile submarines. Of this silent and
steady coast patrol work, which is deprived of any spectacular side,
little has come to light, except where a reconnaissance also involved
an attack upon forces of the enemy.

It was during such patrol flights, along the Belgian coast, that two
German submarines were put out of action by aviators of the Allies.
The first of these engagements occurred on August 26, 1915, when
Squadron Commander A. W. Bigsworth of the Royal Naval Air Service
destroyed a German submarine off Ostend by dropping several bombs on
the but partly submerged vessel. The second German submarine was
destroyed off Middelkerke, Belgium, on November 28, 1915, by a British
seaplane, piloted by Flight Sub-Lieutenant Viney, and carrying a
French officer, Lieutenant Count de Sincay, as an observer. German
submarines having been reported in the vicinity, the aviators were
ordered to patrol the coast with the object of watching for the enemy.
The aviators rose to an altitude of 3,000 meters, and had been up for
half an hour when they sighted, four miles from the shore, two
submarines side by side on the surface. The place was favorable for
attack, the sea being shallow there, and the aviators hoped that the
enemy boats would be unable to escape by diving. The seaplane quickly
dived to about 200 meters above the sea and attacked the submarines,
one of which succeeded in escaping, the other boat, however, was hit
by two bombs, which broke open its hull and caused it to sink in a few
minutes.

Owing to the great range of vision afforded by a seaplane, both
horizontally and vertically, owing also to its considerable speed and
ease of maneuvering, marine aeroplanes have proven formidable foes for
submarines, which they can easily overtake and destroy with bombs.
Especially is this true when a submarine is steaming partly submerged,
with only its periscope visible above the sea, for, whereas, the
submarine's outline is easily detected from great heights, the
periscope has but a limited range of vision horizontally, and none
vertically.

Another instance of how aeroplanes can be used for attacking war
vessels was furnished by the feat of a British aviator who attacked a
Turkish army transport on August 12, 1915, in the Marmora Sea and sank
the vessel with a heavy projectile, which, it is claimed, weighed over
200 pounds.

Although not yet sufficiently developed to fulfill the functions
for which they are ultimately intended, i. e., strategical
reconnaissance and offensive action against vessels of war and
coast fortifications--seaplanes have played a very useful rôle in
tactical operations, and particularly in convoying troop ships, as
well as in "spotting" for naval guns. Whenever the comparatively
limited range of seaplanes precluded their employment for
long-range reconnaissances or bombardment, airships were called
upon to carry out these duties.

In the matter of airships, Germany was markedly favored by the
possession of the Zeppelin type, whose speed and endurance is still
unequaled by the smaller, nonrigid dirigibles which constitute the
chief bulk of the British, French, Italian, and Russian fleets of
"lighter-than-air" machines.

Obviously, the employment of airships is fraught with even more
danger, on account of the large hull exposed to enemy fire, than that
of aeroplanes. A great number of Zeppelins have been destroyed either
by antiaircraft guns or by storms, although the gallant feat of the
late Flight Lieutenant Warneford, who blew up single-handed a Zeppelin
near Ghent, has not yet been repeated by aviators of the Allies.

An Austrian aviator, however, succeeded on August 5, 1915, in putting
out of action the Italian dirigible _Citta-di-Jesi_, which was
returning from a bombing raid on Pola. Soaring above the airship the
aviator dropped several bombs on the envelope, which was damaged, the
hydrogen being ignited thereby. The airship did not explode, but was
forced to alight on the sea, her crew being captured by the Austrians.




CHAPTER LVIII

AIR FIGHTING ON ALL FRONTS--LOSSES


By December, 1915, and January, 1916, the official reports of the war
in the air contained a continued account of activity. Almost every day
reconnoitering machines were sent out over one city or another, and
attempts were made to interfere with their work or to bring on battle,
and on December 19, 1915, the British War Office reported forty-four
combats in the air, with two enemy aeroplanes brought to the ground
within their own lines, and two brought down in damaged condition. On
this day one of the British machines was missing.

Again, the report on December 29, 1915, from the British War Office
mentioned an unsuccessful attack by the Germans on one of the British
aerodromes by four machines, only two of which reached their
objective, and no damage was done to them, although one of the British
aeroplanes was shot down. On December 29, 1915, sixteen British
aeroplanes attacked the Comines station with bombs, and hit the
station railway and sheds in the vicinity. Ten of the British
aeroplanes attacked the aerodromes and did considerable damage, in
both cases all machines returning safely.

On this day, December 29, 1915, there were twelve encounters with
hostile aeroplanes, and a British aeroplane engaged four belonging to
the Germans, one of which was believed to have been brought down,
while another was damaged, and all four were driven off. The British
aeroplane fell as the result of a struggle with two machines. On
January 5, 1916, a number of British aeroplanes made a bombing raid
against enemy aeroplanes at Douai, while the Germans retaliated by an
aeroplane raid over Boulogne, dropping a few bombs without damage. The
next day the British made another raid with eleven machines on gun and
supply stations at Lesars. On January 10, 1916, enemy aircraft dropped
bombs near Starzelle, Hazebrouck and St. Omer, and one woman and one
child were killed.

That the activities of the British were not always crowned with
success is stated in the report for January 13, 1916, where record is
made of the fact that four of the British aeroplanes sent out on the
previous day had not returned. On January 17, 1916, sixteen British
aeroplanes attacked the German supply depot at Lesars, northeast of
Albert, and did considerable damage. On this day there were nineteen
encounters in the air, and five of the German machines were driven
down, and two British aeroplanes were lost.

The activity of the French did not diminish as the war progressed, and
the activity of the bomb-operating squadron continued. On December 20,
1915, four French aeroplanes designed for bomb-dropping, escorted by
seven machines with rapid-fire guns dropped on the fort and station at
Mülhausen six shells of 155-millimeter caliber, and twenty shells of
ninety-six caliber. In the terse language of the official report,
"they reached their objective." The damage must be imagined as it was
not specified.

During December, 1915, and January, 1916, the French aviators were
active with the eastern army, although many difficulties were
encountered, especially the intense cold in the Balkan Mountains when
reconnoitering around the Bulgarian lines and elsewhere. French
aviators during December, 1915, shelled Uskub, Istip, Strumitza, and
other encampments with great effect, and they made a remarkable
series of photographs and maps, in addition to reporting to
headquarters by wireless. The aviation corps in this section of Europe
furnished daily weather reports to the headquarters staff regarding
the speed of the wind and the height of the clouds from 1,000 meters
altitude, and this work shows the extent of the organization and plan
of campaign. On December 29, 1915, the French aeroplanes bombarded
parks and encampments of the Bulgarians at Petrik, east of Lake
Doiran, and that the activity in this region was not all one-sided was
evident by the fact that on January 27, 1916, hostile aeroplanes
bombarded the cantonments of the Allies in the environs of Saloniki,
doing little damage, but losing one of their aeroplanes, which was
brought to earth by gunfire. On January 14, 1916, the Allies were
again attacked, and bombs were dropped on Janes (Yanesh), northwest of
Kukus (Kilkich), and on Doganizi.

In the operations around Constantinople both sides employed aeroplanes
for various purposes. On the Gallipoli front on December 20, 1915, it
was reported that the Allies had a seaplane shot down and its
occupants made prisoners, while on December 23, 1915, an ally
aeroplane was shot down at Birheba. On December 26, 1915, an ally
aeroplane was brought to earth near Birelsabe, and the French pilot,
Captain Baron de Ceron, and a British lieutenant were killed. On
December 27, 1915, the Turkish forces sent out a seaplane, which made
a reconnoitering flight over Tenedos, the island of Mavro, and the
many positions near Sedd-ul-Bahr, striking a torpedo boat south of
this point with a bomb. On December 28, 1915, three ally aeroplanes
flew over Ari-Burnu, and one of these was hit by artillery fire and
fell into the sea, while a British seaplane successfully dropped some
bombs on a tent camp. On December 28, 1915, Turkish artillery brought
down a biplane flying over Yent Shehr and Kum Kaleh, and on the
previous day a reconnoitering and bombing expedition was undertaken by
a Turkish seaplane, which dropped bombs on the harbor tool house at
Mudros.

On January 1, 1916, a Turkish seaplane attacked and repulsed a hostile
ally aeroplane while reconnoitering, and on the following day a
Turkish seaplane dropped bombs on the enemy's camp at Sedd-ul-Bahr.
Lieutenant Ryck Boddike figured prominently in a number of successful
flights, in one of which he attacked a French aeroplane on January 6,
1916, killing the aviator and bringing down the machine on the
Anatolian coast, near Akbanca. On the following day he shot down, east
of Yalova, a British Farman aeroplane. On January 7, 1916, also there
was bomb dropping by the Turkish aviators over the enemy's positions
at Sedd-ul-Bahr, and their aviation station on the island of Imbros.
January 10, 1916, Lieutenant Ryck Boddike brought down his fourth
enemy aeroplane, which fell into the open sea, and two days later he
shot down his fifth, a British machine of the Farman type, killing one
of the aviators and wounding the other. This aeroplane fell in such
condition that it could be repaired by the Turks. On January 14, 1916,
a Turkish aeroplane attacked a monitor which, with other vessels,
opened fire in the direction of Kilid Bahr. The monitor was forced to
withdraw in flames.

Late in the year 1915 the Germans, after a period of inactivity, made
a raid in force on the French fortress at Belfort. At least three
aeroplanes dropped bombs over the city, and were attacked in turn by
the machine and antiaircraft guns of the garrison, and French aviators
proceeded to the attack, beating off the Germans, who returned again
later in the day discharging another shower of shells over the
fortress.

On December 29, 1915, the Germans reported that they had shot down an
English biplane in an aerial flight near Bruges, and the occupants of
the machine were killed. The English machine had been flying over the
district of Lichtervelde, south of Bruges, and had dropped several
bombs, one of which had hit a munitions depot with disastrous effect.
A German aeroplane intercepted the British machine on its return, and
in the course of the battle both machines were disabled and crashed to
earth. The same day the Germans reported the loss of two aeroplanes by
the British, one of which was forced to descend at a point to the
north of Lens, and the other, a large battle aeroplane, was shot down
in a fight north of Han, on December 27, 1915, and three British
aeroplanes were destroyed by fire west of Lille. The Berlin report on
December 29, 1915, stated that on the whole front artillery and
aeroplanes were active. The enemy's aircraft attacked the towns and
railroad stations of Wervick and Menin, Belgium, without, however,
doing military damage. A British aeroplane was shot down in a fight
northeast of Cambrai, and on January 6, 1916, the Allies made an
aircraft attack upon Douai, which failed, and two British aeroplanes
were shot down by German aviators. One of these was brought down by
Lieutenant Boelke, and was the seventh aeroplane that he had disabled.
January 10, 1916, a German air squadron attacked the warehouses of
Furnes. On this same day an interesting air battle occurred, involving
a series of fights, with casualties on both sides, between the French
and German aeroplanes above the lines of the latter near Dixmude.
Three French avions cannon (Voisin steel biplanes armed with
37-millimeter quick-firing guns at the bow) fought with German
scouting aeroplanes of the Fokker type. The attack was brought on by
the Fokker assailing a French machine which was forced to descend, but
one of its companions straightway attacked the German and brought him
down by machine gunfire at a distance of twenty-five meters. A third
French machine was also successful in attacking another Fokker, which
fell in the forest of Houthulst, southeast of Dixmude.

On January 11, 1916, a French battle aeroplane was attacked by German
rifle fire and forced to land near Noumen, south of Dixmude in
Belgium, and the aeroplane and its occupants, uninjured, became German
prisoners. On this day a British biplane was shot down in an encounter
near Tournai, Belgium. Lieutenant Boelke on January 13, 1916, shot
down a British aeroplane, as did also Lieutenant Immelmann--one
northeast of Tourcoing and the other near Bapaume. Both were decorated
with the Order of Pour-le-Mérite by the emperor. A third British
aeroplane was shot down in an aerial fight near Roubaix, and a fourth
was brought down by German defense guns near Ligne, northwest of
Lille. Of the eight British officers on these four aeroplanes six were
killed and two wounded.

On January 15, 1916, Lieutenant Boelke again shot down an enemy
aeroplane, which fell within the British lines and was set on fire by
German artillery. On January 18, 1916, there were aerial battles near
Paschendaele and Dadezelle in Flanders, and three of the four
occupants of one machine were killed. A French aeroplane was shot down
by German airmen near Moyenvic, and the pilot and observer were
captured.

In the course of the war the German aeroplane fleet developed at the
close of the year 1915, and at the beginning of 1916, a renewed
activity and initiative of attack. In the period from December 20,
1915, to January 19, 1916, an analysis of the official reports
indicated that the British airmen had had seventy-five individual
combats with the Germans, in the course of which nine British and
eight German machines were lost. The Germans, on the other hand,
reported in this time that they had destroyed fourteen British and
three French aeroplanes, while the French claimed the destruction of
three German machines, one of which was shot down in the Balkans;
while the Turks, defending the Dardanelles, claimed to have shot down
seven ally aeroplanes. Italian airmen overcame two Austrian machines,
and Austria and Montenegro each overcame one enemy aeroplane. An
analysis of these figures indicates that for this month the advantage
was distinctly with the Germans, as they had destroyed twenty-five
machines as against fourteen aeroplanes brought down by the enemy.

The statements concerning the losses of airships and aeroplanes
published by the various armies and newspapers in most cases were
disputed for their accuracy. The Paris "Temps" on February 5, 1916,
criticising a German statement, stated as the correct figures for the
aeroplane losses of the various combatants on the western front
between October 1, 1915, and January 31, 1916, the following:
"Thirteen English and seventeen French aeroplanes lost on the side of
the Allies--eleven German aeroplanes destroyed on the English front
and twenty on the French front. Of the French machines lost, four were
overcome in aerial combats, one destroyed by artillery fire, three
were forced to descend by motor troubles, and eight disappeared on
land-scouting missions."

During the month of February, 1916, patrol service was actively
maintained on both sides of the frontier; a large number of attempts
at bombing were made, and many individual combats took place, with the
losses, so far as the French and Germans were concerned, about evenly
divided, the French reporting the destruction of nine German
aeroplanes, while the Germans claimed to have destroyed eight French
and four British machines. For this period the official reports of the
British claimed that four German machines were forced to the ground,
but it was not apparent whether they had been actually destroyed or
merely forced to retire. In the French reports, in addition to the
nine German aeroplanes destroyed as noted, it was stated that two
additional were "forced down."

In January and February, 1916, the German air service again began its
activity against the British Isles, and not only Zeppelins but also
seaplanes and aeroplanes crossed the Channel and dropped explosives
and incendiary bombs on English towns and villages, mostly on the east
coast. The Germans claimed that in one instance a Zeppelin had gone as
far as Midlands in an attempt at some of the great manufacturing
centers of England, and this seemed to indicate that the campaign
would be carried on with greater relentlessness than ever and more
attempt at material damage. More and more aeroplanes of the German
service were beginning to cooperate with the Zeppelins, and it was
clear that future attacks would be in forces with aeroplanes to
protect the Zeppelins from attack by quick-flying hostile aeroplanes.
It was evident from the activity of the Germans that in all
departments of its aerial services increases were being made, and
increased activity was to be manifested. At the same time the Allies
were showing corresponding activity in their attempts to destroy the
air cruisers of the enemy.

The German military Zeppelin _L-Z-77_ was brought down by a French
incendiary shell from a 75-millimeter antiaircraft gun of the
motor-gun section of Rénigny in the neighborhood of Brabant-le-roi, on
February 21, 1916. This airship was hit by an explosive shell which
ignited the gas bag and caused an explosion of the bombs, so that it
was completely wrecked and fell in flames. The _L-19_, belonging to
the German navy, previously had been destroyed by a storm in the North
Sea on January 31, 1916.




PART XII--THE UNITED STATES AND THE BELLIGERENTS




CHAPTER LIX

SINKING OF THE ARABIC--ANOTHER CRISIS--GERMANY'S DEFENSE AND
CONCESSIONS.


The _Lusitania_ issue, after the dispatch to Germany of the third
American note of July 21, 1915, was withdrawn from the publicity in
which the exchange of diplomatic communications had been made. Note
writing having fulfilled its mission in stating the case, an interlude
followed devoted to private conversations between the American
Ambassador at Berlin and the German Foreign Office and between the
German Ambassador at Washington and the State Department. Apparently a
way out of the impasse was seen in conferences in the privacy of the
chancelleries rather than by negotiations conducted in the light of
day on the theory that absorbed public observation and criticism of
every stage in the exchanges was not helpful to a settlement. But time
did not show that this resort to secrecy smoothed the path of Germany
meeting the American demands.

In fact, the ruthless course of the submarine warfare, which the
sinking of the _Lusitania_ only momentarily checked, relegated that
specific issue to the background, or at least made it only one of a
series of indictments by the United States of the entire submarine
policy pursued by the Teutonic Powers.

Thirty days after the American Government had warned Germany that any
further contravention of American neutral rights at sea would be
regarded as an act "deliberately unfriendly," the White Star Atlantic
liner, the _Arabic_, with twenty-nine Americans among her company, was
sunk without warning off the south of Ireland by a German submarine.
Germany had not responded to the reiterated demands made in the third
American note on the _Lusitania_ and the question was impetuously
asked in the press: Was the sinking of the _Arabic_ Germany's answer?
This view of Germany's second blow at transatlantic liners, made at a
time when the _Lusitania_ crisis had only seemingly abated because
withdrawn from the public gaze, found its best expression from a
pro-German quarter. The "New Yorker Staats-Zeitung" deplored the
absence of a reply from the German Government to the third _Lusitania_
note as "most unfortunate," because the subsequent destruction of the
_Arabic_ could therefore be held to be a "direct challenge,"
particularly as reports showed that the liner had been torpedoed
without warning and the rescuing of the passengers had been left to
"blind chance."

The _Arabic_ was bound from Liverpool to New York, so that the motive
for sinking her could not be that advanced by Germany for destroying
the _Lusitania_--that the vessel was carrying war munitions to her
enemies. The fact that she was headed for the United States inspired
some incensed commentators to make the direct charge that the German
submarine commander deliberately aimed at the lives of Americans on
board. As elsewhere described, the _Arabic_ was sunk on August 19,
1915, without being first warned by the attacking submarine. Abundant
testimony from survivors satisfied the Administration as to this
circumstance, in addition to disproving the belief originating from
German sources that the liner was being convoyed by a warship, whose
presence would deprive her of any right to protection from attack. The
Administration was also assured that the liner, contrary to Germany's
allegation, did not attempt to ram the submarine or escape from it.
Two Americans were among the passengers lost; but this was not the
sole issue.

The days immediately following were charged with dangerous
undercurrents. The President was silent. Had he not said all there was
to be said in the _Lusitania_ notes? But there was no doubt that the
press correctly divined what was passing through his mind, and the
press said that, short of a satisfactory explanation from Germany,
made in a proper spirit, accompanied by a disavowal of the deed, a
break in diplomatic relations was inevitable. But the onus was on
Germany to speak before the Administration took action, which could
not take the form of another protest. The situation had grown beyond
the stage of protests. They had already been made. If Germany could
not show extenuating circumstances that palliated the sinking of the
_Arabic_, the President must act on his _Lusitania_ warning, or remain
silent--must go forward or recede.

This ominous condition of American sentiment was not lost on Germany.
It was true the Berlin press affected an apathetic tone in referring
to the _Arabic_, saw nothing calling for perturbation, and, in casting
doubt on the accounts of the liner's destruction, hinted that a mine
was responsible. But the German Government, wisely informed by Count
von Bernstorff on the state of American feeling, knew better than to
belittle the situation. Pending the receipt of any report from the
submarine commander who sank the _Arabic_, it charged Ambassador von
Bernstorff to ask the American Government to defer judgment.

"The German Government," Count von Bernstorff pleaded, "trusts that
the American Government will not take a definite stand after hearing
the reports of only one side, which in the opinion of the Imperial
Government cannot correspond with the facts, but that a chance be
given Germany to be heard equally. Although the Imperial Government
does not doubt the good faith of the witnesses whose statements are
reported by the newspapers in Europe, it should be borne in mind that
these statements are naturally made under excitement, which might
easily produce wrong impressions. If Americans should actually have
lost their lives, this would naturally be contrary to our intentions.
The German Government would deeply regret the fact and beg to tender
sincerest sympathies to the American Government."

This statement, made five days after the _Arabic's_ destruction, was
viewed as the first ray of hope in the crisis. A disavowal of
unfriendly intent was seen in the regrets expressed for the loss of
American lives. There was a disposition to credit Germany with
cherishing a desire to avert a rupture with the United States and to
go to considerable lengths in that endeavor. This impression eased the
Washington atmosphere, which had been weighed by the President's
determination not to depart from the stand he took in the third
_Lusitania_ note, and also by Germany's apparent indifference to its
warning, as shown by her pursuit of submarine warfare seemingly
regardless of consequences.

What the "facts" were in the sinking of the _Arabic_ to which,
according to the German statement, the reports to hand could not
correspond, exercised official Washington. As the German Government
had not so far heard from the submarine commander of its own
acknowledgment, it could not itself be aware of this version of how
the _Arabic_ sank. Why Germany was so confident that the reports the
Administration accepted were inaccurate was explained on the surmise
that she had revised her orders to submarine commanders governing the
conduct of their operations. For some time before the sinking of the
_Arabic_ the German submarine commanders had been conforming closely
to the rules of search and seizure demanded by the United States. The
sudden divergence from this procedure in the sinking of the _Arabic_,
according to the accepted reports, implied that the submarine
commander had contravened instructions, or could plead justification.
Germany was indisposed to believe that the submarine commander had
disobeyed orders. But if he had done so, the German Government would
give "full satisfaction" to the United States. This assurance came
from the Imperial German Chancellor, Dr. von Bethmann-Hollweg, the day
after Ambassador von Bernstorff had revealed Germany's conciliatory
spirit.

The United States consented to withhold judgment until Germany had
presented her side of the case. Meantime Count von Bernstorff urged
upon his Government the imperative necessity of making more
substantial concessions to the United States on the submarine issue.
Another catastrophe such as the sinking of the _Lusitania_ or
_Arabic_, he warned Berlin, would aggravate the situation beyond his
control. That Germany recognized the danger was shown by a further
declaration from her Imperial Chancellor on August 26, 1915, wherein
he endeavored to placate American feeling by declaring that the
sinking of the _Arabic_, if caused by a German submarine, was not a
"deliberately unfriendly act," but, if the accepted version of the
disaster proved to be true, was "the arbitrary deed of the submarine
commander, not only not sanctioned but decidedly condemned by the
German Government," and that the latter, being "most anxious to
maintain amicable relations with the United States, would express its
deep regret and make full reparation." This conditional promise was
made in the continued absence of any report from the implicated
submarine commander, whose silence became mysterious. The British
added to the perplexity by making the unqualified statement that the
submarine which sank the _Arabic_ had herself been sunk by a British
patrol boat.

While the United States waited significantly for Germany to make the
_amende honorable_, an internal conflict was proceeding in Berlin over
the submarine policy. The _Arabic_ crisis had been transferred to
Germany by the stand the Chancellor, Dr. von Bethmann-Hollweg, and the
Foreign Minister, Herr von Jagow, made for modifying the ruthless
conditions under which the German admiralty had pursued the submarine
warfare. Grand Admiral von Tirpitz and the extremists opposed any
relaxation permitting passenger ships to be warned before being
torpedoed or safeguarding the lives of passengers. The chancellor
desired to place Germany on record as an observer of international
law, and the kaiser faced the task of determining which side should
prevail.

Admiral von Tirpitz was generally regarded as the originator of the
policy of sinking merchant shipping without heeding the recognized
laws of visit and search. "What would America say if Germany declares
war on all enemy merchant ships?" he had asked before Germany
initiated the submarine methods which caused the destruction of the
_Lusitania_ and the _Arabic_ and numerous other craft. His view of the
_Lusitania_ issue, as freely expressed in an interview, was that the
maintenance of friendly relations with the United States was of far
less importance than the continuance of the submarine blockade of
British ports, and that the entrance of the United States into the
war among Germany's enemies was preferable to acceding to the American
demands.

Since the _Lusitania_ disaster the imperial chancellor had been the
target of sustained attacks from the Von Tirpitz group, who charged that
he was not radical enough and inclined to abandon the extreme aims of
German policy. The agitation attained such serious proportions that the
National Liberal party issued a statement denying knowledge of any lack
of confidence in the Government. Dr. von Bethmann-Hollweg's difficult
position in trying to save Germany from international outlawry, however,
was not sensibly weakened. Events temporarily showed that the kaiser
concurred more in his view than that of the hotspurs. There was a
momentary cessation of submarine activity. The chancellor's policy, the
keynote of which was: "Keep at peace with the United States," gained the
upper hand, and Admiral von Tirpitz grudgingly bowed to the chancellor's
contentions, on the condition that his acquiescence must be deemed
unofficial; but he held out against any formal disavowal by Germany of
the sinking of the _Arabic_. This attitude was comprehensible, for a
disavowal meant a repudiation of his submarine policy. Thus the
surrender of the extremists did not go very far; it merely helped to
relax the friction between the kaiser's councilors.

The outcome of this agreement was a note (September 1, 1915) from
Count von Bernstorff to Secretary Lansing announcing that his
instructions concerning Germany's answer to the last American note on
the _Lusitania_ contained this passage:

"Liners will not be sunk by our submarines without warning and without
safety of the lives of noncombatants, provided the liners do not try
to escape or offer resistance."

The German Ambassador added that this policy had been decided on
before the _Arabic_ was sunk. Secretary Lansing, commenting upon this
abatement of Germany's sea war methods, said: "It appears to be a
recognition of the fundamental principles for which we have
contended." A settlement of the _Lusitania_ case, however, was
deferred until that of the _Arabic_ had been satisfactorily disposed
of.

The atmosphere was clearer. But Germany was still silent regarding the
report of the submarine commander, on whose version of the _Arabic's_
destruction hinged the question whether Germany would disavow his act.
The report that the submarine had been sunk revived in London, but the
British admiralty maintained an impenetrable silence regarding its
truth or falsehood. The circumstantial story was that the submarine
later sighted a cattle boat, and was engaged in shelling it when a
British patrol boat appeared and, opening fire, sank the submarine
with its crew except two or three survivors. Hence London concluded
that in the disappearance of the submarine lay Germany's reason for
her readiness to climb down to the United States on the _Arabic_
controversy.

On September 7, 1915, nineteen days after the _Arabic_ was sunk,
Germany appeared to disprove this story of furnishing a report to the
American Government giving the submarine commander's account of the
sinking. This delay was in contrast to the promptitude with which the
German Government had officially announced the sinking of the
_Lusitania_. The British openly charged that Germany could not have
heard from the submarine commander, for the sufficient reason, they
iterated, that he was drowned with his craft, and that the German
Government, waiting in vain for him to report, had resorted to
"manufacturing" a report to conform with its preconceived theories of
the _Arabic's_ destruction. This, however, remained an unsolved press
controversy in face of the British admiralty's silence. The American
Government gave no indication that it took cognizance of the charge,
or that the British admiralty had privately enlightened it as to
whether it had any real basis. Hence Germany's report officially stood
unquestioned.

The defense of Germany was that before sighting the _Arabic_ the
submarine commander had stopped the British steamer _Dunsley_ and was
about to sink her by gunfire, after the crew had left the vessel, when
the _Arabic_ appeared, headed directly toward the submarine. From the
_Arabic's_ movements the commander became convinced that the liner
intended to attack and ram his submarine; whereupon, to forestall such
an attack, he ordered the submarine to dive, and fired a torpedo at
the _Arabic_. After doing so he had convinced himself that the people
on board were being rescued in fifteen boats.

"According to his instructions," the German report continued, "the
commander was not allowed to attack the _Arabic_ without warning and
without saving the passengers' lives unless the ship attempted to
escape or offered resistance. He was forced, however, to conclude from
the attendant circumstances that the _Arabic_ planned a violent attack
on the submarine.

"The German Government most deeply regrets that lives were lost
through the action of the commander. It particularly expresses this
regret to the Government of the United States on account of the death
of American citizens.

"The German Government is unable, however, to acknowledge any
obligation to grant indemnity in the matter, even if the commander
should have been mistaken as to the aggressive intentions of the
_Arabic_.

"If it should prove to be the case that it is impossible for the
German and American Governments to reach a harmonious opinion on this
point, the German Government would be prepared to submit the
difference of opinion, as being a question of international law, to
The Hague Tribunal for arbitration, pursuant to Article 38 of The
Hague Convention for the Pacific Settlement of International Disputes.

"In so doing it assumes that, as a matter of course, the arbitral
decision shall not be admitted to have the importance of a general
decision on the permissibility or the converse under international law
of German submarine warfare."

Here Germany affirmed that submarine commanders were forbidden to
attack liners without warning and safeguarding passengers' lives, but
that commanders could justifiably disregard this precaution if they
deemed that a vessel's movements, designedly or otherwise, jeopardized
the safety of the attacking submarine. On this reasoning a submarine
commander could excuse a wanton act on the plea of self-defense, which
Germany appeared eager to accept, whether the need of self-defense was
actual or fancied.

The Washington Government declined to consent to clothing a submarine
commander with the discretionary power of determining whether a vessel
should be sunk on sight because of movements he considered suspicious.
The German Government would absolve him from blame and repudiate any
obligation to grant indemnity, even if the commander was mistaken in
attributing aggressive intentions in a vessel's movements. Germany's
precept, as laid down by Count von Bernstorff in his note of September
1, 1915, and Germany's practice, as illustrated by the foregoing
defense for the sinking of the _Arabic_, were thus widely divergent.

The situation receded to the _Lusitania_ stage. Ambassador von
Bernstorff's assurances as to warning and safety to passengers were
negatived by the new condition that submarine commanders could
disregard instructions, whether right or wrong, in doing so. The
Administration accepted as convincing the abundant evidence before it
that the _Arabic_ made no attempt to ram the submarine. According to
this testimony, no one on board the _Arabic_ even saw the submarine;
only the torpedo was seen coming from the direction of the sinking
_Dunsley_, behind which, it was supposed, the submarine had been
screened when the _Arabic_ came in view, whereupon it submerged.
Moreover, the _Arabic_ was struck astern from a direction which showed
that the submarine was at right angles to her. If the _Arabic_ had
been heading toward the submarine with the intention of ramming it,
the torpedo should have struck her at the bow. But the _Arabic_
testimony was that the submarine was invisible.

Germany's explanation was so unsatisfactory, so discredited by the
overwhelming evidence of the _Arabic_ survivors, as well as being
qualified by an indirect recognition of the possibility that the
submarine commander might have erred, that the question of severing
diplomatic relations again became imminent. A resort to arbitration,
as proposed by Germany, with the nullifying condition that any
decision of a Hague tribunal was not to affect Germany's conduct of
submarine warfare, was not deemed worthy of serious consideration. The
question now was whether, after the pledge given by Count von
Bernstorff, the German Government intended to allow submarine
commanders a broad discretion in deciding the circumstances under
which passenger ships may be torpedoed. The ambassador was informed of
the Administration's conviction that the torpedoing of the _Arabic_
could not have been a mistake, justified or unjustified. Germany's
unreadiness to disavow responsibility for the act of the submarine
commander as "arbitrary" and "unsanctioned," to quote the German
Chancellor, showed that she accepted her submarine commander's
purported report, not the _Arabic_ testimony. In this impasse the
Administration was credited with being almost ready to break off
relations with Germany, but deferred doing so until the German
Government had studied the evidence on which the American Government
had decided that the submarine commander was solely to blame.

In the negotiations which followed, the _Arabic_ issue went the way of
the unsettled _Lusitania_ case by its withdrawal from being threshed
out in public. The exchange of notes was abandoned for pourparlers,
which were resorted to as seeming to afford a more supple means of
arriving at a settlement. Germany was afforded an opportunity of
privately establishing her good faith--which was in serious
question--by reconciling her acts on the seas with her pledge not to
attack passenger vessels without warning. No official disclosure was
made to enlighten a forgetful public as to the extent to which she had
done so in the negotiations which occupied the American and German
Governments throughout September, 1915. But a communication from Count
von Bernstorff to Secretary Lansing, which passed October 2, 1915, was
permitted to be revealed acknowledging that the submarine commander
was mistaken in believing that the _Arabic_ intended to ram his
vessel, and disavowing the act. The Von Bernstorff note contained this
passage: "The order issued by His Majesty the Emperor to the
commanders of the German submarines, of which I notified you on a
similar occasion, has been so stringent that the recurrence of
incidents similar to the _Arabic_ case is considered out of the
question."

The United States had thus brought Germany to an admission that the
sinking of the liner was unjustified. This important point gained,
the issue was removed from the acute stage at which it had dangerously
lingered, and only left undetermined the question of indemnity to be
paid by Germany to the _Arabic_ victims.

It cleared the diplomatic decks sufficiently to enable the deferred
negotiations on the _Lusitania_ dispute to be resumed; but these had
made little headway when both the _Lusitania_ and _Arabic_ issues were
overshadowed by the sinking of the _Ancona_.




CHAPTER LX

ISSUE WITH AUSTRIA-HUNGARY OVER THE ANCONA--SURRENDER TO AMERICAN
DEMANDS


The attention of the United States was abruptly diverted from Germany
to Austria-Hungary. The _Ancona_, an Italian liner en route for New
York, was steaming westward in the Mediterranean, between the coasts
of Sicily and Tunis, on November 9, 1915, when a submarine flying the
Austro-Hungarian flag fired a shot at the steamship. As described by
the American protest sent to Austria-Hungary on December 6, 1915,
based upon the testimony of American and other survivors, the _Ancona_
thereupon "attempted to escape, but being overhauled by the submarine
she stopped; that after a brief period, and before the crew and
passengers were all able to take to the boats, the submarine fired a
number of shells at the vessel and finally torpedoed and sank her
while there were yet many persons on board, and that by gunfire and
floundering of the vessel a large number of persons lost their lives
or were seriously injured, among whom were citizens of the United
States."

A heated protest from the Italian Ambassador to the State Department
thus depicted the same scene: "Without any warning whatever, without
even a blank shot, without observing any of the formalities
accompanying the right of search, the submarine encountered by the
_Ancona_ opened fire upon the unarmed passenger liner, relentlessly
shelling not only the wireless apparatus, side, and decks of the ship
while she was at a stop, but even the lifeboats in which the terrified
passengers were seeking refuge. Many of the passengers were killed
outright or wounded. Some who approached the submarine in the hope of
rescue were driven off with jeers. As a result of this inhumane
procedure more than two hundred men, women and children lost their
lives."

An impenitent explanation came from the Austro-Hungarian admiralty,
who in upholding the submarine commander, saw "no reason to find fault
with his course of action," and while recognizing that a commander in
the heat of battle could act contrary to instructions, "nothing of the
kind has occurred in this case."

"It appears from his report," said the admiralty defense, "that his
ship was in danger; indeed, in double danger; first, that an enemy
boat was approaching on a line that threatened to cut off his retreat,
and the enemy ship and the Ancona could have established his radius of
action and could have set a torpedo boat flotilla on him; and second,
there was danger of the Ancona escaping, which, according to his
instructions, was to be prevented in all circumstances. Hence the
conduct of the commander, much as the loss of innocent lives must be
regretted and deplored, cannot be disapproved. On the contrary, if he
had departed without destroying the Ancona, it would have been failure
to do his duty since the Ancona could have notified other ships of his
whereabouts. The loss of American lives is regrettable, as well as
that Americans used a vessel belonging to a nation at war with
Austria-Hungary."

This statement amplified a previous defense by the Austrian admiralty,
in which the latter admitted that the _Ancona_ was torpedoed after her
engines had been stopped and when passengers were still on board. The
American protest cited the admiralty's admission as substantially
confirming the principal testimony of the survivors. It, moreover,
alluded to the correspondence which had passed between Germany and the
United States on the use and misuse of submarines in attacking vessels
of commerce, and to Germany's acquiescence in the American stand
thereon. Yet despite the "full knowledge" possessed by the
Austro-Hungarian Government of the views of the United States, "as
expressed in no uncertain terms to the ally of Austria-Hungary," the
commander of the submarine which attacked the _Ancona_, the United
States protested, failed to put in a place of safety the crew and
passengers before destroying the vessel.

The United States accused the submarine commander of violating the
principles of international law and humanity, and characterized his
conduct as "wanton slaughter of defenseless noncombatants," as the
vessel was not resisting or attempting to escape, and no other reason
was sufficient to excuse such an attack, not even the possibility of
rescue.

A tone of severity and bluntness, not hitherto used in American
communications with the belligerents, marked this note of protest to
Austria-Hungary. Demands were made for a denunciation of the submarine
commander's act as "illegal and indefensible," for his punishment, and
for reparation by the payment of indemnity for the loss of American
lives. The United States left an avenue open through which
Austria-Hungary could find an acceptable excuse. It preferred to believe
that the submarine commander acted contrary to instructions rather than
accept the alternative assumption that the Austro-Hungarian Government
"failed to issue instructions to the commanders of the submarines in
accordance with the laws of nations and the principles of humanity."

The answer of Austria-Hungary (December 13, 1915) was deftly befogging
by clouding in diplomatic rhodomontade the familiar issues raised by
the United States. Its deliberate evasiveness was so direct as to be
almost an affront. Stripped of its confusing terminology, the Austrian
note declared that the United States had not adequately stated its
cause of complaint, and had wrongly assumed that the Austrian
Government was fully acquainted with all communications passed between
the German and American Governments on the submarine issue. This plea
of ignorance was made in face of the precautionary transmission by the
State Department to the Austrian embassy of copies of all the
American notes sent to Germany. The Austrian note also questioned
whether the testimony made by the _Ancona_ survivors, whom the
American protest had not specifically named, was to be deemed more
trustworthy than the report of the submarine commander. As to
Austria-Hungary's knowledge of the American issues with Germany, that
Government was not of the opinion that "this knowledge could be
sufficient for the present case, which, according to its own
information, is materially different from the case or cause to which
the American Government apparently is referring." The note thus
proceeded:

"Therefore, the Austro-Hungarian Government must leave it to the
Washington Cabinet to draw up the individual legal maxims which the
commander of the submarine is alleged to have violated when sinking
the _Ancona_.

"The American Government also thought it advisable to point out the
attitude which the Berlin Cabinet in the before-mentioned exchange of
correspondence had taken. In the highly esteemed note the
Austro-Hungarian Government finds no support for this course. If the
American Government should have intended thereby to express an opinion
as if a precedent exists for the present case, the Austro-Hungarian
Government, in order to prevent misunderstandings, must declare that
it, of course, must preserve full liberty to urge its own legal
interpretations during the discussion of the _Ancona_ case."

This was a virtual refusal by Austria-Hungary to be bound by or
concerned with the submarine agreement between her ally and the United
States. As viewed through German-American eyes (the "New Yorker
Herold"), the Austrian answer represented "a very sharp censure of a
dilettante diplomacy which desires to negotiate and expects plain
replies before the most essential preliminaries are given. The tenor
of the Vienna note is in substance this: 'We are willing to negotiate,
but first you must furnish us with the necessary material--undebatable
material at that.' It is quite comprehensible that Washington is
peeved at this censure."

Austria's demand for a "bill of particulars" was aptly expressed in
this hostile view of the American note. The United States declined to
accede to the request, which was viewed as a resort to the evasive
methods practiced by Germany, but rested its case on the Austrian
admiralty's self-condemning admission that the _Ancona_ was sunk while
people were still on board her. Nor would the American Government
assent to the Austrian proposal that the two governments "exchange
views" as to the legality of the act as described by the Austrian
admiralty. President Wilson and his advisers saw no loophole for
argument as to the justification or otherwise of a submarine sinking
an unarmed merchantman with passengers on board her when the vessel
was at a standstill.

Hence the second American note sent on December 19, 1915, was confined
to a simple issue. The Government brushed aside the questions Austria
raised as immaterial to the main fact based on the incriminating
report of her own admiralty. The Austrian Government was informed that
the admission that the _Ancona_ was torpedoed after her engines had
been stopped and while passengers remained on her was alone sufficient
to fix the blame on the submarine commander. His culpability was
established.

"The rules of international law," the American note continued, "and
the principles of humanity which were thus willfully violated by the
commander of the submarine have been so long and so universally
recognized and are so manifest from the standpoint of right and
justice that the Government of the United States does not feel called
upon to debate them and does not understand that the Imperial and
Royal Government questions or disputes them.

"The Government of the United States therefore finds no other course
open to it but to hold the Imperial and Royal Government responsible
for the act of its naval commander and to renew the definite but
respectful demands made in its communication of the 6th of December,
1915."

[Illustration: Firing a torpedo from the deck of a German destroyer.
The torpedo has just left the tube. Dropping into the water it will
continue its course, like a small submarine boat, straight to its
mark.]

Austria yielded. A lengthy response from Vienna, disclosed on December
31, 1915, was couched in a spirit which removed all danger of a
cleavage of relations between the two countries on the _Ancona_ issue.
The United States drew from the Dual Monarchy an affirmation that
"the sacred commandments of humanity" must be observed in war, and a
concurrence in the principle that "private ships, in so far as they do
not flee or offer resistance, may not be destroyed without the persons
aboard being brought into safety." Austria-Hungary was thus ranged in
line with Germany in the recognition of, and pledging compliance with,
principles for which the United States stood.

The Vienna Government, however, adhered to its own version of the
sinking of the _Ancona_, and from it sought to show that the
statements made in the first American note were based on incorrect
premises, i. e.:

"Information reaching the United States Government that solid shot was
immediately fired toward the steamer is incorrect; it is incorrect
that the submarine overhauled the steamer during the chase; it is
incorrect that only a brief period was given for getting the people
into the boats. On the contrary an unusually long period was granted
to the _Ancona_ for getting passengers in the boats. Finally it is
incorrect that a number of shells were still fired at the steamer
after it had stopped.

"The facts of the case demonstrate further that the commander of the
submarine granted the steamer a full forty-five minutes' time--that is
more than an adequate period to give the persons aboard an opportunity
to take to the boats. Then, since the people were not all saved, he
carried out the torpedoing in such a manner that the ship would remain
above water the longest possible time, doing this with the purpose of
making possible the abandonment of the vessel on boats still in hand.

"Since the ship remained a further forty-five minutes above water he
would have accomplished his purpose if the crew of the _Ancona_ had
not abandoned the passengers in a manner contrary to duty.

"With full consideration, however, of this conduct of the commander,
aimed at accomplishing the rescue of the crew and passengers, the
Imperial and Royal Marine authorities reached the conclusion that he
had omitted to take adequately into consideration the panic that had
broken out among the passengers, which rendered difficult the taking
to the boats, and the spirit of the regulation that Imperial and
Royal Marine officers shall not fail in giving help to anybody in
need, not even to an enemy.

"Therefore the officer was punished, in accordance with the existing
rules, for exceeding his instructions."

On the question of reparation by indemnity for the loss of American
lives, Austria-Hungary would not admit liability for damages resulting
from the "undoubtedly justified bombarding of the fleeing ship," but
was willing to come to an agreement on the subject.

It will be seen that the note did not denounce the attack on the
_Ancona_ as "illegal and indefensible"; but Austria's acquiescence in
the American demand for the punishment of the submarine commander was
viewed as a virtual admission of the illegality and indefensibility of
the method of attack. Coupled with her expressed disposition to pay
damages and her acceptance of the humane principle of warning and
safety to passengers, Austria regarded her concessions as closing the
_Ancona_ issue, in so far as it affected the friendly relations
between the two Governments. As the complaint of the American
Government had been principally against the method of attack, and had
been met by Austria, the crisis passed.




CHAPTER LXI

THE LUSITANIA DEADLOCK--AGREEMENT BLOCKED BY ARMED MERCHANTMEN
ISSUE--CRISIS IN CONGRESS


The _Lusitania_ negotiations were resumed, only to encounter a deadlock.
The issue had been eased in one important particular--Germany's
undertaking, drawn from her in the _Arabic_ crisis, not to sink unarmed
merchant vessels without warning and regard for the safety of passengers
and crews. But there remained the no less vital questions of indemnity
to relatives of the Americans who lost their lives when the _Lusitania_
sank and a disavowal by Germany of the submarine commander's act. Here
was ground well traversed by the State Department in its communications
with Austria over the _Ancona_; but Germany was much less pliant. The
United States insisted that not only must full indemnity be paid for the
American lives lost, but that the agreement for such payment must be
accompanied by a declaration of disavowal acknowledging that the
submarine commander committed an illegal act in sinking the _Lusitania_.

The stumbling-block lay in Germany's objection to subscribing to such
a principle as was here implicated--that her war-zone decree against
Great Britain, carried out by submarine attacks on merchant vessels,
was illegal. She held that her submarine policy was a just reprisal
for Great Britain's "starvation" blockade of Germany. The United
States held that reprisals in the form of sinking helpless ships
without warning were illegal. Germany would not admit that her
submarine policy as practiced when the _Lusitania_ went down was
illegal. To do so would be an admission that her entire submarine
campaign against Great Britain violated international law, and that
Americans surrendered none of their rights as neutral citizens in
traveling through a war zone on merchant ships of a belligerent power.
But Germany was willing to pay an indemnity for the loss of American
lives, not as an admission of wrongdoing, but as an act of grace.

Despite this deadlock the private conversations between Secretary
Lansing and Count von Bernstorff continued. Germany submitted
proposals in various forms aiming at making concessions to meet the
American demand for disavowal of an illegal act; but in each case
Secretary Lansing discerned an effort to evade acknowledging
wrongdoing.

Matters remained at this stage toward the close of January, 1916,
after negotiations extending over several weeks, apparently fruitless
in opening any acceptable channel toward a settlement. That the status
of the _Lusitania_ case was unsatisfactory was vaguely hinted, and the
alternative to Germany's meeting the American demands--a severance of
diplomatic relations--which remained the menace it was from the
outset, loomed up again. A speech by President Wilson before the
Railway Business Association in New York City on January 27, 1915,
ostensibly on preparedness for war, was interpreted as having a
bearing on the deadlock in the _Lusitania_ negotiations. At least it
was significantly coincidental both in time and subject, and did not
pass without comment in Europe, especially this passage:

"I cannot tell you what the international relations of this country
will be to-morrow. I would not dare keep silent and let the country
suppose that to-morrow was certain to be as bright as to-day. There is
something the American people love better than peace. They love the
principles upon which their political life is founded. They are ready
at any time to fight for the vindication of their character and honor.
I would rather surrender territory than ideals."

Whether this utterance was a warning to Germany or not, the
_Lusitania_ negotiations afterward became more promising. Throughout
them Germany balked at making an outright disavowal; she indicated a
willingness to go part of the way to meet the United States, but
always conditional to an expression being inserted in her apologia
that the attack on the _Lusitania_ was a justifiable reprisal against
Great Britain. A proposal by Germany to submit the question of
disavowal to arbitration was rejected, for the second time, on the
ground that the "vital interests and national honor" of the United
States were involved and were therefore not arbitrable. The right of
Americans to be on board the _Lusitania_, under the protection of
international law accorded to neutrals on the high seas in war time,
was too firmly established to admit of debate. A renewed reminder to
Germany that the private conversations threatened to end in failure,
which meant further consideration of the alternative of a cleavage of
relations between the two countries, brought from Germany a reply on
February 4, 1916, which was described as "one word short" of a
satisfactory surrender. The word needed was a synonym for "disavowal"
which did not convey that Germany had committed an illegal act. So the
proposal again fell short of the demand; it did not contain the exact
form of disavowal insisted upon by the United States. But it came
nearer to meeting the American demands than any of the varied
proposals Germany had previously submitted. The dispute turned on
terminology that did not affront Germany's sensibilities. The aim
sought was the avoidance of the words "illegal" and "disavowal" or
whether to "assume" liability, which seemed to imply a voluntary act
of grace, or "admit" liability, which implied an acknowledgment of an
illegal act, or "recognize" liability, which was President Wilson's
solution. On February 8, 1916, the outcome of these efforts in search
of the acceptable word or words was a reported agreement on a
memorandum which contained "language sufficiently broad to cover
substantially the demands of the United States."

This bright prospect of a speedy settlement was suddenly dimmed by a
communication received from Germany and Austria-Hungary two days later
notifying that, beginning March 1, 1916, their submarines would sink
all armed merchantmen without warning. Germany's revised draft
apparently deciding the _Lusitania_ issue came to hand on February 15,
1916. The following day the Administration intimated that the
submarine controversy over the _Lusitania_ could not be closed until
the United States had fully considered the possible effect of the new
policy of the Teutonic Powers.

Germany later informed the United States that her assurances regarding
the future conduct of submarine warfare, given in the _Lusitania_ and
_Arabic_ cases, were still binding, but that they applied only to
merchantmen of a peaceful character; that the new orders issued to the
submarine commanders, which directed them to sink without warning all
belligerent merchantmen carrying arms, either for defense or offense,
were not in conflict with these assurances; and that Germany and
Austria-Hungary had entered into an agreement regarding the new
submarine orders, which would go into effect by midnight, February 29,
1916.

Germany charged that Great Britain had instructed all her merchantmen
to arm for offensive purposes against submarine attacks, and cited
instances in which submarines were attacked by vessels seemingly of a
peaceful character. This accusation was denied by Lord Robert Cecil,
Great Britain's Minister for War Trade, who told the House of Commons:

"The British view has always been that defensively armed merchantmen
must not fire on submarines or on any other warships, except in
self-defense. The Germans have twisted a passage in a document taken
from a transport which they sank into meaning that merchant vessels
have instructions to take the offensive. This is not so."

The question of armed merchantmen had been simmering during the course
of the _Lusitania_ negotiations. It arose over the unexplained sinking
in the Mediterranean of a Peninsular and Oriental liner, the _Persia_,
on December 29, 1915. The American Consul to Aden, Robert N. McNeely,
was among the passengers who lost their lives. The _Persia_ carried a
4.7 gun. The Administration was believed to be exercised--though
erroneously--over the question whether an armed liner was entitled to
be regarded as any other than an auxiliary cruiser, and hence liable
to be sunk without warning. No new issue, however, was raised by the
United States with the Teutonic Powers, because both Germany and
Austria-Hungary--Turkey also--categorically denied that the liner had
been sunk by any of their submarines. The loss of the _Persia_ thus
remained a mystery, though there were not wanting suspicions in the
American press that the Teutonic Powers, in disclaiming that they had
any hand in the vessel's destruction, might have hit upon a new device
to evade further controversies with the United States.

The _Persia's_ gun, added to the frequent reports rife of other
merchantmen being similarly armed, injected a new element in the
submarine controversy, which could not be wholly removed from the
pending _Lusitania_ negotiations. Germany had excused the sinking of
vessels without warning on the plea that her submarine commanders, if
they appeared on the surface to warn them to haul to for visit and
search, or for those on board to take to the boats, could never be
assured that they would not be fired upon and sunk. Hence she regarded
armed merchantmen as being more than a match for submarines and not
entitled to any consideration. Had evidence been forthcoming that the
_Persia_ was sunk by a German submarine, the presence of a gun on
board her would, in Germany's view, have justified the vessel's
destruction without warning, and the uncertain attitude of the
American Government, at this stage, appeared to lean toward the
acceptance of such a defense. It was even hinted that the
Administration was considering whether the situation did not call for
a proclamation warning all Americans off armed merchantmen. Sweden had
done so in the case of her nationals.

The Administration soon dissipated the impression current that it
contemplated a change of policy in the submarine issue. But, while the
uncertainty lasted, it appeared to have a credible basis in a proposal
Secretary Lansing had made to the Entente Powers, as a _modus vivendi_
of the submarine controversy, for the disarmament of merchant vessels,
to assure the safety of their passengers and crews if attacked. The
success of this course depended wholly upon Germany living up to her
guarantees. The proposal was not well received by the Entente Powers,
who doubted the good faith of Germany's pledges, and only saw in the
Lansing suggestion an assurance of safety to her submarines in their
raids on allied shipping.

The American attitude to the new Teutonic policy of sinking all armed
merchantmen on sight remained to be declared. The Administration had
upheld the right of Americans to travel on the high seas in
merchantmen, and saw a surrender of national principle and an
abridgment of personal liberty if the United States yielded to the
terrorism caused by submarine warfare and warned Americans to stay at
home. The United States also recognized the right of belligerent
merchantmen to arm, but for defensive purposes only. At the beginning
of the war it so notified Germany in a memorandum naming the following
American regulations, among others, governing such vessels:

"A merchant vessel of belligerent nationality may carry an armament
and ammunition for the sole purpose of defense without acquiring the
character of a ship of war.

"The presence of an armament and ammunition on board a merchant ship
creates a presumption that the armament is for offensive purposes, but
the owners or agents may overcome this presumption by showing that the
vessel carries armament solely for defense."

The memorandum was sent to Germany as an answer to Germany's protest
against the refusal of the United States to intern as ships of war
British liners leaving or entering New York with guns mounted. Germany
dissented from the view that any belligerent merchant ship could carry
guns. The United States declined to modify its rulings, but informed
Germany that, recognizing the "desirability of avoiding a ground of
complaint", it had disapproved of British vessels using American ports
if armed, and had made such representations to Great Britain that no
armed merchant vessel, since September, 1914, with the exception of
two, had entered an American port.

The situation disturbed Congress. A resolution came before the Senate
on February 18, 1916, opposing acquiescence by the United States in
the notifications of the Central Powers of the right of their
submarines to sink armed merchantmen. The foreign policy of the
Administration was bitterly assailed by Senators Lodge and Sterling,
especially for its attitude in relation to the pending negotiations
over the new submarine order. For the Administration, Senator Stone,
chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, said the question of
armed merchantmen was at least debatable. The position at this stage
was that the Administration was taking cognizance of Germany's charge
that British merchantmen were armed for offensive purposes, had been
instructed to attack submarines, and that rewards had been offered for
their success in so doing. Germany offered to furnish proofs to show
that the American rules recognizing merchantmen armed for defensive
purposes as peaceful ships could not now apply.

There was a division of sentiment in the Senate as to the stand the
United States should take, and a wider one in the House of
Representatives, where a panic-stricken feeling arose that the country
was slowly but surely heading toward war with Germany. A vociferous
demand was made by a minority of congressmen for strong action warning
Americans off armed merchantmen of belligerents to prevent the United
States raising further critical issues with Germany. The House leaders
informed the President that they could not control their following,
and that on a vote the House would be two to one in favor of such
legislation. They even were tempted to force the passage of such a
resolution on the patriotic ground that in doing so they would merely
be seeking to prevent American citizens from jeopardizing the peace of
the nation. The President suspected that pro-German propaganda was
behind the hysteria in Congress, and objected to any legislative
interference in his handling of the submarine controversy. A
resolution was actually pending in the House forbidding Americans to
travel on armed merchantmen. The President finally stated his position
in a forceful letter to Senator Stone on February 24, 1916, refusing
to assent to any such abridgment of the rights of American citizens.
This letter followed an emphatic rejection by him of a proposal made
by the Democratic leaders in Congress that that body should relieve
him of all responsibility of forcing an issue with Germany.

"The course which the Central European Powers have announced their
intention of following in the near future with regard to undersea
warfare," the President wrote, "seems for the moment to threaten
insuperable obstacles, but its apparent meaning is so manifestly
inconsistent with explicit assurances recently given us by those
powers with regard to their treatment of merchant vessels on the high
seas that I must believe that explanations will presently ensue which
will put a different aspect upon it.... But in any event our duty is
plain. No nation, no group of nations, has the right, while war is in
progress, to alter or disregard the principles which all nations have
agreed upon in mitigation of the horrors or sufferings of war, and if
the clear rights of American citizens should ever unhappily be
abridged or denied by any such action, we should, it seems to me, have
in honor no choice as to what our own course should be.

"For my own part I cannot consent to any abridgment of the rights of
American citizens in any respect. The honor and self-respect of the
nation is involved. We covet peace, and shall preserve it at any cost
but the loss of honor. To forbid our people to exercise their rights
for fear we might be called upon to vindicate them would be a deep
humiliation indeed. It would be an implicit, all but an explicit,
acquiescence in the violation of the rights of mankind everywhere and
of whatever nation or allegiance. It would be a deliberate abdication
of our hitherto proud position as spokesmen even amid the turmoil of
war for the law and the right. It would make everything this
Government has attempted, and everything it has achieved during this
terrible struggle of nations, meaningless and futile.

"It is important to reflect that if in this instance we allowed
expediency to take the place of principle the door would inevitably be
opened to still further concessions. Once accept a single abatement of
right and many other humiliations would certainly follow, and the
whole fine fabric of international law might crumble under our hands
piece by piece. What we are contending for in this matter is of the
very essence of the things that have made America a sovereign nation.
She cannot yield them without conceding her own impotency as a nation
and making virtual surrender of her independent position among the
nations of the world."

The leaders in Congress were so impressed by this uncompromising
declaration of the President that they set about allaying the revolt
against the Administration's policy, which, it was feared, was drawing
the United States into war. Efforts were made to smother in committee
the resolutions pending in both the House and Senate forbidding
Americans to travel on armed merchant ships. But the President later
saw that much harm had already been done. An impression became current
abroad that Congress and the President were at cross purposes
regarding the attitude the United States should take toward the new
submarine policy of the Teutonic Powers. In the belief that the
country was with him in his stand, the President decided that such an
impression ought not to be permitted to prevail, and that the question
should be determined as to whether Congress upheld him also. In almost
irreconcilable contrast to his previous opposition to Congress voting
on the resolutions forbidding Americans to travel on armed
merchantmen, the President suddenly executed an audacious _volte face_
on February 29, 1916, by demanding a test vote upon them. The
congressional leaders were confounded by the request, coming as it did
after they had done their utmost to suppress the resolutions in
deference to the President. But the latter made his reasons for
changing his attitude cogent enough in a letter he addressed to
Representative Pou of the House Rules Committee.

"The report," he wrote, "that there are divided counsels in Congress
in regard to the foreign policy of the Government is being made
industrious use of in foreign capitals. I believe that report to be
false, but so long as it is anywhere credited it cannot fail to do the
greatest harm and expose the country to the most serious risks.

"I therefore feel justified in asking that your committee will permit
me to urge an early vote upon the resolutions with regard to travel on
armed merchantmen, which have recently been so much talked about, in
order that there may be afforded an opportunity for full public
discussion and action upon them, and that all doubts and conjectures
may be swept away and our foreign relations once more cleared of
damaging misunderstandings."

The House resolution, which was proposed by Representative McLemore of
Texas, was thereupon revived for immediate consideration. The
President's demand for a vote upon it came on the eve of the date set
by the Teutonic Powers for inaugurating their submarine war on armed
merchantmen, March 1, 1916. The ensuing events belong to the next
volume of this history.




CHAPTER LXII

DEVELOPMENTS OF PRO-GERMAN PROPAGANDA--MUNITIONS CRUSADE DEFENDED--NEW
ASPECTS OF AMERICAN POLICY


Pro-German propaganda soon developed far beyond its original aim.
Registering protests against the Administration preserving a
neutrality according to its own interpretation of American laws proved
ineffective. Balked in this, the crusade took a form which was plainly
an outgrowth of a countrywide circulation of literature emanating
from German publicity organizations devoted to presenting the Teutonic
cause in the most favorable light to the American people. Opinions
being free, epistolary zeal of this kind violated no laws, and words
broke no bones. In the fact that the crusade failed perceptibly to
swing national sentiment regarding the European war to a recognition
of the German view of American neutrality obviously lay a stimulus and
incitement for resorting to sterner measures, since mild measures were
vain. Events already narrated show the extent to which German zealots
pursued a defiant criminal course in making their "protests," but
there was no certainty--though suspicions and allegations were not
wanting--that their activities had official German inspiration and
sanction. But as the summer of 1915 wore on, the Administration became
satisfied--through an accumulation of evidence--that this was the
case. For reasons of state, in view of the delicate stages of the
_Lusitania_ and _Arabic_ issues with Germany, the Government forbore
to take cognizance of the undoubted participation of German diplomats
and secret-service agents in plots hatched and pursued on American
soil against the country's neutrality, and provoking unrest and
disorder. The Government's tolerance of such a situation did not long
endure.

The first revelation that these activities were organized on an
extended scale came through the columns of the New York "World" in
August, 1915. The country was not unprepared for the disclosure. They
had had forerunners in repeated rumors and accusations that German
Embassy officials were involved in the passport frauds and were using
American territory as a base for an espionage system, whose coils were
wound about this country and Canada, as well as in the charge that
German money had been freely spent in a way inconsistent with
international friendship. The newspaper named unreservedly charged
that "The German propaganda in the United States has became a
political conspiracy against the Government and people of the United
States." To substantiate that sweeping indictment the "World"
reproduced the text of a series of letters it had obtained, addressed
to Dr. Heinrich F. Albert, a German Privy Councilor, who acted as the
fiscal agent of the Kaiser's Government in the United States.

The correspondence, as printed, linked Dr. von Bethmann-Hollweg, the
German Imperial Chancellor, and Count von Bernstorff, the German
Ambassador, with a vast project for spreading German propaganda. The
disclosures of the correspondence, the authenticity of which was not
contested, were described as showing that the German propaganda had
for its purpose "the involving of the United States in the
complications of the European war," and that the plans "designed to
accomplish this result were carefully and deliberately projected,
efficiently organized, superbly executed, and adequately financed."
These plans embraced an elaborate scheme to control and influence the
press of the United States to establish newspapers and news services,
finance professional lecturers and moving-picture entertainments and
publish books "for the sole purpose of fomenting internal discord
among the American people to the advantage of the German Empire."