1914 (British Ace) (12 page)

We camped, exhausted in a field which was heavily churned up by horses
and men long before we got there. Everything was covered in a film of dirt and mud.  We were all beginning to smell but at least we all smelled the same, however disgusting that was. Despite our best efforts to shave most of us had faces covered in stubble.  We were a far cry from the smartly turned out soldiers who had left England in September. Lieutenant Ramsden no longer chivvied us about our appearance.  This was real war and he was no longer playing at soldiers.

We had pickets out each night. It added to the exhaustion of the day. Our troop took its turn along with the others.  Being the scouts gave us no special privileges. George woke me at 2 a.m. for my section’s duty.

“Quiet as the grave.” He nodded to the lieutenant’s sleeping form.  “His lordship says to wake him at five.”

I shook my head. I knew we needed another officer but I suspect he had not even watched with George.  Not only was he a coward he was lazy too. Lord Burscough had been a much better officer. I wondered how he was enjoying his new regiment,
the Royal Flying Corps. We had seen the occasional aeroplane and it seemed like an insect or bird far away from the horrors of Flanders.

I woke
my men. “Doddy, you and Robbie watch the horses.  You four come with me.” I spread out my remaining men at intervals around the edge of the field. They had done this enough times to be confident. They all found a comfortable place to watch where they were protected from any enemy scouts and the elements.  The rain came in waves of showers and that made picket duty a nightmare. Following the showers, then the initial pitter patter of raindrops made you wonder if it was the sound of an approaching enemy. I walked the line slowly making sure that my lads were all awake.  Occasionally I would stop and peer east.  The Germans were out there somewhere. I always took Caesar with me on these nightly pickets. I had found I sometimes needed to investigate noises and movements beyond our picket line. So far they had all been false alarms but one night it would be the real thing. Besides that Caesar was like a friend to me.  His reassuring presence was like a good luck charm for me and my men.

When I reached Doddy and Robbie I smelled smoke. “Hey you two, put them out.  If there are Germans out and about they will smell them and the glow will
mark you out as a target.”

“Sorry
, sarge.” They both snuffed out their cigarettes and put them behind their ears for later.

I was about to leave when Caesar’s ears pricked up and he began to stamp his foot. It was a warning sign I had learned not to ignore.  I slipped the safety off
on my rifle and nodded to the other two.  The clicks of their safeties sounded loud but I knew it was my imagination. I pointed to my eyes and then to the darkness beyond the hedges. I went to each man in turn and repeated my actions.

I crouched and peered through the hedgerow. The darkness was complete but some of the shadows looked to be darker than others. I raised my rifle and sighted it on one of the darker shadows.
The waiting game ended when I heard what sounded like a boot slipping on mud and the shadow I had been following moved.  I fired. The flash from my gun showed me grey coated infantry heading towards us.  I yelled at the top of my voice, “Stand to!”

The rest of my pickets were now firing.  I emptied my magazine and then beg
an firing the Luger. The German infantry were kneeling and firing.  I heard cries from my left and right as my troopers were hit. Then I heard the sound of George and the others as they raced to take their places next to us. As they fired I reloaded. I nodded to George and then went to see to Robbie and Doddy. Robbie was lying in a pool of blood.  He had been hit in the left arm. I took off my scarf and tied it tightly around his wound. “Orderly! Wounded man at the horse lines.”

Just then I saw three Germans with bayonets hurling themselves at me. I turned and fired from the hip. Two of them fell but the third one stabbed towards my groin with the lethal looking blade. The butt of Doddy’s rifle smashed into the side of his head. He crumpled at my feet, his brains already oozing out. I nodded my thanks and then aimed at the next infantry man.

Then, it became easier as the colonel rushed more men into the line.  When our machine gun came into play the Germans fled the field.  We stood to until dawn broke and we could see the grey coated bodies lying in small groups in the damp and muddy field.  Doddy and I went amongst the bodies searching for ammunition for our Lugers. Then I went back to see my section.  Robbie had been taken away to the hospital.  We later heard he had been sent back to England. He was alive and that was good. Apart from Doddy only Harry and Danny remained from my section.  The rest were dead. Even George’s section had not emerged unscathed and our numbers had fallen to less than fifteen troopers.

The German attack had almost succeeded.  It was only thanks to Caesar’s ears that we had been spared.  Because of our losses the colonel spared us scouting duties
the next day.  It would have been pointless anyway; we were too few in numbers. Lieutenant Ramsden looked relieved to be at the rear with the wagons. I rode next to Doddy and tried to talk him out of his stupor.  It did not work. It was as though half of him had died along with his brother.

“Thanks for last night, Doddy, you saved my life.”

“I saw the bayonet coming at you and thought of Tiny. Perhaps if I had been more careful and alert I could have saved him too.”

“You can’t change the past and Tiny wouldn’t want you like this.  You know that.”

George had been listening and he nudged his horse next to Doddy’s. I saw the angry look on the lieutenant’s face.  It spoiled his symmetry but neither George nor I were bothered.

“You know
, Doddy, I lost a cousin in the Boer War so I know what you are going through.”

Doddy respected the old solider and he asked, “How did you get through it then?”

“By trying to be as good a soldier as he was and by never forgetting him.  All the lads who have died in the last month need to be remembered.  They died for their country.” He shrugged, “I am lucky to have lived this long and I know it.  Make the most of every day that God lets you live and remember that there may well be a bullet or a shell with your name on it. It was Tiny’s time and he died well.”

That speech, which was one of the longest I had ever heard George give, seemed to have the right effect and Doddy brightened more than he had.
I could see him digesting what the old soldier had said.

We were just twenty miles from where we had landed, Dunkirk, when the battle began. I say ‘battle’ but it was a series of skirmishes as our cavalry clashed with the German cavalry. We could hear the small arms fire and, as the colonel ordered us forwards, we heard the clash of sword on sword. As we approached we could see that the Dragoon Guards were heavily involved in a fierce fight with Uhlans.  The Germans were pushing forward and had not seen the approach of our brigade. This was the colonel’s chance and he ordered the charge.

I took out my sword but checked that my Luger was secure.  We would be travelling too fast to use my rifle effectively but I knew how good German cavalry were with swords. For once we were riding boot to boot across the flat and obstacle free field. We were on the plain of the Yser. We crashed into the side of the Uhlans.  The tip of my sword entered the eye of an unsuspecting German who did not see our oblique approach and he fell beneath the hooves of our horses.  Caesar barrelled through them and horses fell. He was a big and powerful horse.  He was made for such work. I slashed with my sword and felt it bite into the arm of another cavalryman. He wheeled away and we ploughed through them. We had struck when they least expected it and they fell in their droves.

The pressure was too much for the Germans who were now being attacked from two sides and they turned to flee. 
I heard their bugle and saw them as they all turned to flee east and the safety of their own lines. The colonel did not relent and we hurtled after them. I think, on reflection, that he thought we might make a breakthrough which would shorten the war. There was no line and no order.  It was every man for himself. Caesar’s legs opened and he began to eat up the ground. I sheathed my sword and took out my Luger. I fired at four Germans. They were so close to me that I could not miss and a couple of them dropped from their saddles. I holstered my pistol for I was wasting bullets.

I kept expecting the colonel to sound recall but, as I looked down the line I saw that the whole brigade was charging east. Before me all that I could see was the backs of the fleeing Germans. I saw that they were heading for a small wood. It made
sense; they could regroup there and perhaps fire back at us. The colonel saw it too and we angled towards it.  It would suit us as we could dismount and fight with our rifles. We had picked off all those who were close to us and the survivors had made it into the woods.

I began to slow Caesar down; he was breathing heavily.
There was little point in charging into the woods; he might stumble.  Suddenly, when we were less than a hundred and fifty yards from the wood, the German infantry hidden within began to open fire with machine guns and rifles. The troopers who were in front of me seemed to disappear as the rifles and machine guns found solid targets. The horses tumbled and screamed and men were hurled from the backs of their dead and dying mounts. As they struggled to rise they, too, were ripped apart from the bullets of the ruthless machine guns. It was a slaughter.

I
had started to wheel Caesar around to seek safety when the machine guns ripped a line of holes in the side and chest of my brave horse and I felt him stumble. I could not see the damage and he kept on running. I thought I had escaped unscathed but I felt a sudden pain in my leg as though I had been kicked hard by a horse.  I knew that I had been struck by the deadly bullets. Caesar continued to wheel and I found myself heading back through the regiment. All of those following were trying to stop and I saw riders pitched from their horses.  Those at the rear, the Cumbrian Hussars, were already retreating.  They were not waiting for the recall. I could see the death and destruction all around me.  There were bodies of men and horses everywhere.  Caesar managed another ten yards before his mighty heart finally gave out and the noble beast collapsed to the ground.  I rolled clear and winced at the pain in my leg.  I crawled over to Caesar. As I held his head he gave a slight whinny and then the life left his eyes.  My horse was dead. The horse I had seen born was gone. He had done his best to save me but he would run no more on the sands at Formby. I closed my eyes as I stroked his head. I wished then I had left him at home; there he would have been safe.  He had died for no good purpose but he had saved my life. It was then that I heard the retreat sounded. I had lost my rifle and my sword but I still had my Luger. 

I
struggled to my feet and began to limp slowly west.  The battle seemed to be far away or perhaps I was hallucinating. The sound of the guns was muffled and the horizon seemed to be hazy and moving. I could hear someone calling my name but it appeared to be coming from the skies.  Perhaps I was dying and God was talking to me.  I know that sounds stupid now but then, having seen so many of my comrades die, it seemed plausible. My wounded left leg finally gave up supporting me and I fell in a heap in the muddy field.  As I looked up I saw George. He dismounted, “Why didn’t you stop, you daft bugger, I have been shouting you.” I struggled to answer but no words would come.

He dismounted and put his arms under me.  He began to lift me. His horse just stood calmly waiting. “Put your good leg in the stirrup.”

I tried to focus on the stirrup but my leg would not cooperate. I gave him a weak smile.  “Sorry George I….” Suddenly it all went black.

I could hear moans before I opened my eyes. Where was I?  The last thing I remembered was trying to climb on to George’s horse and failing. I awoke and it was night.  There were dim oil lamps lighting the tent and I saw that I was in a hospital.  There were nurses leaning over patients and I could smell ether and antiseptic.  At least I wasn’t dead. I saw my uniform next to the bed. I looked beneath the covers.  I was in pyjamas.  Someone had undressed me. It sounds silly in hindsight but that was the thing which shocked me. It was only then I remembered my wound. We had heard horror stories from George about men having legs and arms amputated because of bullet wounds. I lifted the covers again and saw, to my relief, that my leg was still attached.

My mouth felt dry and I looked for water.  There was none.  The nurses all seemed to be busy and I did not want to disturb them. I tentatively moved my left leg.  It tingled but I thought that I could move it. I threw back the covers and tried to sit up. It was a mistake and I suddenly felt dizzy.
A sense of annoyance with my body washed over me. Why could I not stand?  I was a soldier. I tried to force myself up but my arm had no strength in it and I fell backwards. As I did so my other arm caught my webbing and it crashed noisily to the floor.

One of the nurses turned around and glared at me.
“Where do you think you are going?” She strode over to me.

I said, weakly, “I was thirsty and I needed a drink… sorry.”

The glare turned to a grin and she shook her head.  “You men! Why didn’t you ask?”

“You all looked busy.”

She turned to a table in the middle of the tent and poured a tin mug of water. “We aren’t too busy to get you a drink of water.” As she handed it to me she said, “We wondered when you would come out of it.”