Chapter XV: Uncommon Combats

The following curious bit of war-to-the-knife was related by a sergeant to a newspaper correspondent: "I and four other wounded men got together and hid under some wheat sheaves. Presently one man put out his head to see if the coast was clear, and was spotted by a German soldier. The fellow came towards us, and, grasping his rifle by the barrel, was about to batter out my mate's brains, when I whipped this out (producing a formidable jack-knife) and, springing up, jabbed it into his throat. See, the blood stains are still there. He went down and I with him, and by the time I had finished with this little weapon he was done for. I kept at his windpipe so as not to give him a chance to bawl for assistance. We managed to crawl or limp for some distance in the wake of the army until we came upon Lieutenant B.M.B. Bateman, of the Royal Field Artillery. He helped us to safety."

A knock-out blow was thus described by a young Frenchman, attached to the Interpreters' Corps: "Last week my parents had a pleasant surprise. I took home to supper one of your brave Tommies. I met him as interpreter, and he told me his story. He fought the Boches (nickname for the Germans) from the beginning of the war, and was at Mons, Charleroi, Landrecies, Soissons, and the battles of the Marne and Aisne. On October 15th he was captured by a German patrol, composed of six Uhlans, and was disarmed, but kept his horse. Three of the six went to get some tea, one went for an interpreter, and two watched Tommy. After a short time one of the two lay down on the grass, while the other stood by the side of their prisoner. Tommy was still for a quarter of an hour, and he then suddenly gave the Boche an 'uppercut,' and he fell exhausted. The other Boche got up and went for him, but the English Tommy knocked him out with the first blow, and jumped on his horse. The other Boches had heard the struggle, and as he rode off the bullets whistled past his ears, but luckily he escaped. I asked him if he was a boxer, and he answered me, 'Rather! I matched with my cousin Fred Welsh, who is now a world champion in the light weights!'"

Corporal Isherwood, 2nd Manchester Regiment, when he came home wounded, told how a boy led his regiment in a bayonet charge. "On October 20th the Germans were all around us, and their fire enfiladed our trenches. First our lieutenant was wounded, then the sergeant, and we were left without a single officer to command the platoon. We were wondering what to do when a drummer-boy, of eighteen, the baby of the company, threw up his cap, and with a ringing cheer yelled: 'Fix bayonets, lads.' We did, and charged the advancing Germans. The boy was in the act of bayoneting a German when the latter shouted, 'For God's sake, don't stick me.' 'It is too late,' returned the youngster, 'it is through you.'"

Corporal Gleeson, of the Coldstream Guards, tells this story:

"At Soissons our attention was attracted by a young lad of the Connaught Rangers. He was fighting single-handed against seven Germans. He was doing nicely, but just as he was withdrawing his bayonet from the fifth German to go down, one of them caught him, and he dropped. We fought our way over, and finished the other two, and just managed to catch the poor lad before his last breath went. 'You saw it,' he said, and we said we had. 'You think I did my best, and they won't blame me because seven was too many for me? I'm only a boy, and they were such big chaps.' We told him if any man said or hinted he hadn't done his best, and more, there wasn't one of us wouldn't kill him. He smiled ever so sweetly, and then he died. We drew our coat sleeves across our eyes to stop or hide the blinding tears that came in spite of us."

The London Scottish Regiment gave a good account of themselves in their first fight, and showed that for pluck and dash this "crack" regiment of Territorials--the first Territorial corps to take their place in the firing line--has nothing to learn from even the pick of the Regulars. They were ordered to dislodge from an important position a large body of the much vaunted Bavarian troops, and they did it in a way that Sir John French highly praised.

On one occasion the Kaiser, when addressing a Bavarian corps, said, "I want the Bavarians to meet the British--just once!" The Bavarians have met the British, represented by the London Scottish, "just once," and it was once too often for them.

Before the war the Germans used to say that God had given British soldiers long legs to run away with, and that men in kilts instead of trousers could not fight. They know better now, and the London Scottish greatly helped to enlighten them.

Shouting "Remember you're Scottish, give them the bayonet!" the London Scottish rushed into the village they had to take. The defenders resisted with great obstinacy, but at last they broke and fled.

On the next day the regiment had, without adequate cover, to hold a position in face not only of infantry, but of artillery fire. At the end of the day it was necessary to retire through a storm of lead, and they marched back as steadily as on parade. "A perfect hell, it was," said an eye-witness, "and the wonder is that any of them got back."

The noise of bagpipes must be very terrifying to those who hear it for the first time, and it seems on one occasion to have been instrumental in winning for some men of another Scotch regiment a bloodless battle. On a dark, rainy night the men making a detour of a field of roots and, stalking their prey as silently as cats, got up to a position from which the enemy had to be ejected. Then the Scots yelled, let off rifles, rattled tins, and made the bagpipes speak up or rather squeal up. The Germans were not soothed by the charms of this music, but were seized with panic and fled.

Private S.A. Geary, R.A.M.C., wrote the following: "I was near the trenches against which the Kaiser sent his crack Guard Corps, the picked men of his army. Several times they got right up to the trenches but were hurled back by the bayonet. One young officer did a magnificent bit of work. Nothing could stop him; he jumped out of his trench and yelled, 'Old England for ever! Follow me, lads.' With half a company he dashed forward for quite 50 yards, and he and his men simply performed miracles. As I watched them I was spellbound. They seemed to possess superhuman strength. Caked from head to foot in mud they presented the most fearful picture that could be imagined as they attacked like wild beasts. The big Germans were rushing on four to one, but they could not beat our fellows back. Those who were not killed or wounded got away to shelter, and our boys returned to their trenches cheering and shouting. Five minutes later the Germans came again and again, but not a single man got within 10 yards of the trenches."

One of the Scots Greys, when invalided home, told of fighting with frying-pans. "A dozen or so Germans who must have lost their way, came stumbling into our camp after dark and received quite a warm welcome. No guns were handy, but we grabbed hold of the first things handy, and as it was supper-time there were plenty of domestic articles which proved their worth. Dixey-tins and frying-pans, containing our supper, were banged on their heads until they had had enough and gave themselves up to our tender care."

A detachment of British cavalry, while playing water polo in the Oise, suddenly spotted a patrol of German Uhlans. The British, naked as they were, jumped on their horses and charged the enemy.

A private of the East Surrey Regiment recorded this grim experience: "Suddenly, out of the darkness, a German appeared near, making straight for me with a fixed bayonet. He came right above me as I stood in the trench, and thrust his bayonet down towards my face. I just managed to catch hold of it with my left hand pushing it from me, and at the same time I thrust my own bayonet up into the German. His rifle went off as he fell down on top of me, and the bullet went into my left hand."

It would seem from the following that a combat caused by love is very severe. "There were two men of the Connaught Rangers who had a row about a girl. Under ordinary circumstances they would have gone to the back of the trenches and settled it with their fists, but the regimental peacemaker intervened with a suggestion that struck both as being reasonable. It was that instead of spoiling each other's beauty they should take it out of the Germans, and let the girl decide which was the better man of the two when the facts were put before her by a comrade. They agreed, and that day they went into action with more than usual eagerness. When it came to close quarters each of these chaps fought all he knew against as many Germans as he could find to stand up against him. We all knew what was behind it, and so did not go to their assistance, but when the day was over everybody agreed that the one who had downed eight Germans without getting a scratch was the better man of the two. The girl thought otherwise, for she decided in favour of the chap who got badly wounded in his fight with the sixth German."

A corporal, named W.R. Smith, who has returned from the war, tells of a chivalrous duel that took place between himself and one of the enemy. On one occasion the corporal had got close to a German, and both levelled their rifles. The corporal pulled the trigger first, but the weapon jammed. The German, seeing what had happened, lowered his rifle and offered to give him another chance. "Of course," says the corporal, "there was nothing for it but to shake hands and walk away from each other."

A Royal Engineer told this story in reference to the mole-like manner of attacking the enemy's trenches: "We spent two days on a long mine out towards the German lines, and just when we were getting to the close of our job we heard pickaxes going as fast and hard as you like, and then the wall of clay before us gave way, showing a party of Germans at the same game! You never saw men more astonished in your life, and they hadn't quite recovered from their shock when we pounced on them. We had a pretty sharp scrap down there indeed, but we got the best of it, though we had four of our chaps laid out. One German devil was just caught in time with a fuse which he was going to apply with the mad idea of blowing us all up!"