Part 15 (1/2)
Though he is anxious to retain his life, yet not for himself only, not that he shall live on to see the end of this warfare and the victory of the Allies. No, no! But so that he shall live to pull a trigger as the enemy draws nearer, and so help to destroy the German effort.”
You would have thought, to look at Jules's face, that he was listening to quite a merry conversation; for that young man was smiling broadly, and, though sh.e.l.ls still pitched about them, though many a shrapnel-burst high overhead plastered the ground with bullets, even twitted his comrades. But Henri was stern and severe, and even looked a trifle nervous: such was the difference in their characters. Yet Jules knew, the Sergeant knew, all his comrades knew, that when it came to the pinch, when it came to close fighting, there was no one more to be trusted than the sterner of these two young fellows. Ducking now and again, for somehow he could not help it, turning his eyes anxiously every few minutes in the direction of the enemy, his fingers locking themselves about his rifle and toying nervously with the b.u.t.tons of his tunic, Henri did indeed, at that moment, look ill at ease, to say the least of it. And yet he too smiled as that sh.e.l.l burst, and, turning a moment later, smiled once more as he pointed towards the enemy.
”Wait!” he told Jules and the Sergeant. ”They give us sh.e.l.ls here in plenty, those Boches, they keep a torrent of them tumbling about our ears both day and night; but wait, I say! For remember what we saw from the forest, Jules! Those ma.s.ses down below, the village of Vacherauville and the road to it, the slopes of the Cote de Poivre and of the Cote de Talou, are enfiladed by our guns across the river. Wait then! The gunners have not opened yet, but when the word comes, such a storm of sh.e.l.l will be poured upon the Germans that they too will learn what sh.e.l.l-fire really means.”
His words, indeed, proved to be almost prophetic, for though, for some few minutes longer, the thinned garrison of the French trenches in those parts waited and watched the enemy ma.s.ses advance, almost un.o.bstructed, yet in a little while, and very soon after the machine-gunners had got into action and rifles were speaking sharply from every direction, there came sudden salvoes from across the river, from Charny Ridge, from the hill of Mort Homme, and from that of 304--high ground, in fact, almost continuous with the Hill of Talou.
Taking a bird's-eye view of this particular position of the salient of Verdun, one sees the River Meuse flowing from south to north, winding in big bends through the hills which bound the valley, while, on those same hills to west and east of the river, eminences project which form the positions with which we are dealing. Running almost due east and west, there are Hill 304 and the Mort Homme, with Charny Ridge closer to the river and overlooking it. Then comes a flattened piece of land which is marshy in the winter, and through which the river winds, forming a big bend, and flowing in that part in an east-and-westerly direction. At Vacherauville--lying close to the eastern bank of the river--the next outcrop on the banks of the Meuse is the Cote de Talou, and, still east of it, the Cote du Poivre, while a little farther east, in the neighbourhood of Louvemont, the heights sweep round abruptly to the south to Douaumont, and then to Vaux, towards which those outlying parties of French who had held on so stubbornly to Herbebois, Ornes, and Maucourt, and had retired towards Bezonvaux, were now being driven by the enemy.
A glance at the sketch attached will show at once that the hills we have mentioned to the west or left of the River Meuse, and those to the right, form, as it were, a gateway through which the river pa.s.ses, entering the gateway at Vacherauville and emerging at c.u.mieres, where a wood and a village nestle close to the river.
Then let us imagine troops marching along roads running parallel to the river in a southerly direction, with the intention of forcing their way through the gateway we have delineated, or rather of forcing their way up the slopes of the Cote de Talou and on to the Cote du Poivre. The roads which they must follow are clearly under command of the guns posted on Hill 304, the Mort Homme, and Charny Ridge, which enfilade the position.
[Ill.u.s.tration: MAP OF VERDUN SALIENT AFTER FOUR MONTHS OF CONTINUOUS FIGHTING]
Such was the condition of affairs on this eventful morning, when, having driven in the northern portion of the salient at Beaumont, and shortened its baseline, the Germans once more threw their ma.s.ses to the a.s.sault in the desperate effort to drive in the wedge they had already inserted, to stampede the French at that position, and, breaking through their lines, to get behind the apex of the salient and entrap the thousands of Frenchmen holding the trenches from Douaumont and Vaux down to the southern portion of the salient.
”A brilliant stroke!” you will say. ”The outcome of most able generals.h.i.+p on the part of the Germans.” But wait! Clever though the enemy was, thoughtful though the German High Command had proved itself to be, and tremendous though the preparations for this battle were, there was yet something vital lacking in strategy. The Germans had counted on their guns to smash a way through any sort of defence, and though it is true that their plans had miscarried in one respect, and they had discovered already, to their considerable cost, that guns alone were not sufficient, yet guns and men together, they had learnt during the initial stages of this battle, were enough first to pound the enemy trenches, and then to drive out the defenders. Reckoning now upon a similar course of events, and, having already pounded the French position, they launched on this morning hosts of grey-coated infantry at the Hills of Talou and Poivre, above which Henri and Jules were fighting.
Posted on an eminence in the neighbourhood of Samogneux, the German High Command, safe from the rifle-fire of the French, watched through their gla.s.ses as those sinister lines of grey swept from the wood in which they had been taking cover, and, marching steadily over the ground, advanced upon their objective. And then they too heard that sudden salvo of guns from across the river, and, turning their gla.s.ses, surveyed the Mort Homme and Hill 304, positions to which they had given but little consideration.
And see the result! 75's, machine-guns, howitzers, and rifles, all concealed, all dug in or sheltered, and all amply provided with ammunition, poured a storm of shot and sh.e.l.l and bullets upon those advancing grey ma.s.ses, sweeping them away, shattering the ranks, treating them to a hail of steel beside which the fire of the defenders of the higher slopes of the hill the Germans were attacking was but as a shower compared with a tornado. German infantry melted away under that terrible storm, ma.s.ses of grey were levelled like corn at the feet of the reaper, while even the forest, through which Henri and Jules had penetrated on the previous day, was flattened or torn to shreds, was converted into a species of smoking volcano. It was terrific! It was a master-stroke on the part of the French Command, and a shattering misfortune to the enemy. Indeed, it took the sting out of their attack entirely; it sent those of their men who had survived this awful ordeal racing back to cover; and it put a peremptory and sudden stop to the cunning German effort to drive in that wedge they had already inserted along the Meuse and so to shorten dangerously the base of the Verdun salient.
”Fall in, men, fall in! We are going to move from the position, handing it over to others of our comrades. Fall in there, men!”
”A move!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Jules. ”Then where to?”
Henri shrugged his shoulders.
”Anywhere--who cares?” he declared, with a species of desperation.
”There's fighting all round, so one place is neither worse nor better than another. But there's one thing that is quite apparent; men are hardly wanted here any longer, and a thin sprinkling of our soldiers can hold these trenches quite as easily as hosts of them. For the guns yonder, those guns on Mort Homme and 304, command the Cote de Talou and the Cote du Poivre far better than could our rifles; so our commanders, who no doubt want men in other places; are thinning out our lines and are sending us to reinforce another portion of the salient.”
Creeping along the battered trenches, crawling across ma.s.ses of tumbled earth, where communication-trenches had once existed, and, by slow degrees, moving to a part where a fold in the ground gave some shelter, though little enough, from the sh.e.l.ls which the German guns still sent, the depleted regiment to which Henri and Jules belonged was finally ma.s.sed in the hollow, and, having been fed there and rested for a while, was marched to the east, towards the fort of Douaumont. That night, indeed, after darkness had fallen, they once more repeated the process of scrambling along shattered trenches, and when the morning of the 25th dawned--a cold and bitter morning with snow-flakes filling the air and whirling across the landscape--they found themselves looking down the steep slopes of the plateau of Douaumont, towards the German positions, and watching, spellbound almost, another demonstration of the power and skill of the German gunners.
”Yes, my friends, they have been at that for hours past,” a comrade lying beside them in the trenches told them, as he pointed a finger at the dull-grey outline of Douaumont fort, lying not so far from them.
”Believe me, one would have thought, from the number of sh.e.l.ls they have fired at the place, that there were thousands of Frenchmen sheltering there whom they hoped to destroy completely. And so they have dropped sh.e.l.ls on the place, big sh.e.l.ls--Mon Dieu! as big as I am--middle-sized ones, and small ones--in fact, grandfathers, fathers, and children--till the place has been pounded to atoms.
”And so you have come at last, you fellows,” he went on when the three had watched, for a while, more sh.e.l.ls hurtling into the ruins of Douaumont fort. ”Well, you are wanted, wanted badly, for we've fought our way back from Ornes and Bezonvaux, and there are precious few of us left to do more fighting. You are fresh at the game--eh? my comrades.”
”Fres.h.!.+” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Jules, looking quite indignant.
”Bien! But I hardly meant that,” the _poilu_ told them. ”In appearance you are not fresh. No, certainly not; far from it. But then, who of us can turn out nicely under such circ.u.mstances? Look at me, I ask you; a mere mud-heap. And so I have been since the battle commenced. And you?”
”And we,” laughed Henri, ”we are in a similar sort of position. But what would you?” he declared, shrugging his shoulders in truly French fas.h.i.+on. ”For listen, mon ami! Like you, we have fought our way back from Brabant, from the lines stretching along past Herbebois and Ornes.
We have been in the thick of the fighting, hiding in caves deep down in the earth, in dug-outs which shook as the enemy sh.e.l.ls burst above them, crawling from shot-hole to sh.e.l.l-crater, living in earth battered and shaken all day and all night, and thankful to get an hour's sleep at any time, and a bite and a drink to keep us going. 'Fresh,' did you say? Certainly, mon ami, we are fresh, if by fresh you mean we are willing and ready for more fighting.”
”Bravo!”