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In the Russian Ranks: A Soldier's Account of the Fighting in Poland

by John Morse · English · Gutenberg #37372 · 517,712 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: In the Russian Ranks: A Soldier's Account of the Fighting in Poland

Author: John Morse


        
Release date: September 10, 2011 [eBook #37372]
                Most recently updated: January 8, 2021

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE RUSSIAN RANKS: A SOLDIER'S ACCOUNT OF THE FIGHTING IN POLAND ***




Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Matthew Wheaton
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
https://www.pgdp.net







[Illustration: RUSSIA'S RENOWNED CAVALRY ON THE MARCH]




  IN THE RUSSIAN RANKS

  A Soldier's Account of the Fighting in Poland

  BY

  JOHN MORSE


  _Englishman_

  ILLUSTRATED WITH
  REPRODUCTIONS OF PHOTOGRAPHS

  NEW YORK

  GROSSET & DUNLAP

  PUBLISHERS


  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA




  CONTENTS


        CHAPTER

      I THE OUTBREAK OF THE GREAT WAR
     II THE SCENE AT KALISZ ON THE 2ND AUGUST, 1914
    III THE EVENTS PRECEDING ACTUAL HOSTILITIES
     IV THE FIRST FIGHT
      V THE FIGHTING UP TO THE 26TH AUGUST
     VI THE CAVALRY FIGHTING BEFORE KOENIGSBERG
    VII THE FIRST INVASION OF EAST PRUSSIA, AND THE RETREAT
   VIII THE KAISER NOT A SUCCESSFUL GENERAL
     IX CHIEFLY PERSONAL MATTER
      X THE FIGHTING ON THE VISTULA IN THE MONTH OF OCTOBER, 1914
     XI THE RETREAT OF THE GERMANS FROM THE VISTULA
    XII AN INFANTRY RECONNAISSANCE
   XIII THE BUTCHER'S BILL TO THE END OF 1914
    XIV "DO NOT FIRE ON YOUR COMRADES"
     XV SMALL AFFAIRS AND PERSONAL ADVENTURES
    XVI A NIGHT ATTACK ON A BRIDGE-HEAD
   XVII THE FIGHTING NEAR SKYERMEVICE ON THE 3RD, 4TH, AND 5TH FEBRUARY
  XVIII CHIEFLY GOSSIP
    XIX THE FIGHTING BEFORE PLOCK
     XX HARD MARCHING AND DESULTORY FIGHTING
    XXI RECONNAISSANCE AND TRENCH FIGHTING
   XXII FROM THE TRENCHES OF PRZASNYSZ TO THE CAMP OF MAKOW
  XXIII A RIDE TOWARDS OSTROLENKA
   XXIV A PRISONER IN GERMAN HANDS
    XXV ADVENTURES DURING THE EFFORT TO ESCAPE
   XXVI MY LAST DAYS IN RUSSIA




AN ENGLISHMAN IN THE RUSSIAN RANKS




CHAPTER I

THE OUTBREAK OF THE GREAT WAR


On the 1st July, 1914, if I could have seen one step ahead in my life's
course, this book would not have been written. On the day named I
crossed the German frontier west of Metz; and, for the first time,
beheld the territory of the Hun.

Always a student of military matters, at this hour I loved war, and all
that pertained to war; now I loathe it with an ineradicable hate and
disgust, and hope never again to see ground crimsoned with blood.

But at this time I had heard no hint of war in the centre of Europe and
of civilization, and no thoughts were farther from my mind than those of
martial contention.

My object in going to Germany was business; but also to spend a holiday
in a country I had heard friends praise for its beauty and hospitality;
and particularly I wished to visit places renowned in history, art and
romance. Little I dreamed that I was to see a horrible blight, a foul
leprosy, settle on much that had a hallowed past for every cultivated
intellect.

I arrived at Metz from Paris via Chalons and Verdun; and, as my time and
means were both limited, I went on, after only two days' delay, to
Mayence and Frankfort, and thence to Leipzig, where I had some business
to transact. On the 16th July I was at Dresden; on the 20th at Breslau;
and on the 22nd I arrived at Ostrovo, a small German town barely ten
miles from the Russian frontier, and not more than twelve, English
measurement, from Kalisz, which is the capital of a Polish province of
the same name.

At Ostrovo I went, by previous invitation, to the house of a German
friend, from whom I received the most kindly treatment, and to whom I
owe my liberty and possibly my life. It will be obvious that I cannot
reveal the name of this person, nor the nature of my business with him.
It was my intention to remain a month at Ostrovo, which was a convenient
place from whence to make excursions to some of the most interesting
Prussian towns.

I loved the sight of armed men; and during my journey, as opportunities
occurred, I watched the soldiers I saw in the various cities I passed
through. I could not fail to notice the great difference in the military
forces of the two countries--France and Germany. On the Continent one
expects to see a more prominent display of soldiers than is usually the
case in our own quiet island home; but there was no great parade of the
military element in any of the French garrisons I passed through. In all
the large towns a force of some kind was stationed; but in so important
a place as Verdun there did not appear to be a stronger military
garrison than one would see at such stations in England as Plymouth or
Chatham. In the French fortress I saw a battalion marching to the music
of bugles. The men did not exceed 600 in number. In another part of the
town about 150 infantry were drilling; and many artillerymen were
walking about; yet the numbers showed plainly that France was not
mobilizing at this time.

As soon as the frontier was passed I saw that quite a different state of
things existed. As I left the railway-station at Metz three battalions
marched by--two of a line regiment, and a battalion of riflemen, or
jagers, distinguished by wearing shakos instead of the nearly universal
_Pickelhaube_, or spiked helmet. These battalions were quite a thousand
strong in each case. In other words, they had their full war complement
of men. A regiment of hussars was 600 strong; and field-artillery, with
fifty-six guns, besides machine-guns, extended about a mile and a half
along one of the country roads. Everywhere in Germany the towns, large
and small, were crowded with soldiers. Cavalry and artillery and long
lines of waggons lined the country highways and byways. I remarked on
this to a fellow-passenger who spoke English. His reply was that the
troops were assembling for the autumn Manoeuvres. I was sufficiently
surprised to exclaim:--

"What! Already?"

"It is rather early, but they are probably going to have preliminary
exercises in the forest-lands," was the reply.

After this I perceived the passenger was regarding me with a peculiar
air; and, recollecting certain cautions I had received concerning the
danger of making inquiries about the movements of troops on the
Continent, I did not recur to the subject.

At Dresden a large number of troops, infantry and cavalry, were
departing northward by rail and road. At Breslau at least 20,000 men of
all arms were concentrated. These circumstances had no particular
significance to my mind at the time, but a very great one a few days
later.

Even when I arrived at Ostrovo and found the country-side crowded with
troops, impending war did not occur to my thoughts, though I did ponder
on the extraordinary precautions Germany seemed to be taking to insure
the inviolability of her powerful domain. Now I know, of course, that
the mendacious Hun, with the low cunning of a murderous maniac, was
preparing for a blood-feast, before a taint of it was floating in the
surrounding air; and if it is thought that I am putting the case
strongly, I shall have that to relate shortly which would make it
remarkable if I were not to use forcible language. Blood and lust: lust
and blood--this is the awful and disgusting story I have to tell--a
story set in military surroundings which, for skill and magnitude, have
never previously been approached; but military ability and the hugeness
of the operations have only intensified the hellish misery of this the
vastest struggle the world has seen. And that it may never again see
such must be the universal prayer to God.

In Germany it is the custom to billet soldiers on the people, and most
of the houses at Ostrovo were full of men whose behaviour, even to their
own countrymen, was sickening in its utter lack of decency. Complaints
against soldiers have to be very strongly corroborated before their
officers or the magistracy of the land take serious note of them.

In my friend's house some officers of the --th regiment were lodged. With
these I speedily became on friendly terms, and, through them, with
officers of other German corps, particularly with those of a Pomeranian
artillery regiment, one of whom was a quiet and affable little
gentleman. With him I thought I might venture to discuss military
matters, and on the 28th July the following conversation took place
between us. I should premise that I cannot read or speak German and that
I had not seen an English newspaper for more than a week previously.
Certain information had been communicated to me by my friend, but I had
not been given to understand that war was imminent between Germany and
Russia, or any other nation.

"All your units are very strong," I remarked. "Is it usual for you to
embody your reserves for the manoeuvres?"

"Our troops are not on manoeuvre. We are going to fight," was the
officer's reply.

"Fight!" I exclaimed, much astonished. "Whom are you going to fight?"

"The Russians and the French."

"The two most powerful nations in the world! Are you strong enough to do
that?" I said, amazed, and hardly able to believe that I had heard
aright.

"The Austrians are going to join with us, and we shall be in Paris in a
month."

I laughed--rather scornfully, I think.

"Are you joking? Is not what you say absurd?" I asked.

"Not in the least. You will see that what I say is correct."

"But is war declared? Has the matter been discussed in the Press?"

"In this country we do not permit the Press to make the announcement of
such things. War is not declared yet, but it will be on Sunday next."

"Against Russia, you mean?" said I, astonished beyond degree of
expression.

"Yes, and against France too," replied the officer.

"But why? I have not heard that France has given cause of offence to
your country."

"She has been a standing menace to us for years, and will continue to be
so until she is completely crushed."

This is how I heard that the Great War was about to begin. I hardly
believed it, but my friend read me certain passages from German
newspapers, and the following day I received a batch of journals from my
own country, which, together, showed that the political situation of
Europe was rapidly becoming serious.

On the 30th I noticed a change of countenance on the part of most of the
officers who had been friendly with me. The young artillery officer I
have mentioned and a Colonel Swartz, who was, I believe, a Landwehr
officer of the 99th regiment, continued their friendly behaviour towards
me. Swartz was shortly afterwards killed near Turek, where his battalion
was destroyed.

Early in the evening of the 31st, a lady came to my friend's house and
strongly advised me to quit the country without delay. She gave as a
reason that she had received a letter from her brother, an officer in
the foot-guards at Berlin, in which he declared that it was well known
that the Kaiser intended to send an ultimatum to England, and that a
rupture with this country was the almost inevitable consequence. My
friend backed the lady's advice, and my own opinion was that it would be
wise of me to return home at once.

But later that night Swartz and the young officer came and declared that
it was almost impossible for me to get out of Germany by any of the
usual channels before war was declared, as nearly all the lines were
required for the movements of troops and material. Swartz said that it
would take at least four days for a civilian to reach France by railway.
I suggested a motor-car, but he thought that all motors would
immediately be confiscated--at any rate, those driven by foreigners.

The above circumstances and the date, of the correctness of which I am
quite sure, show that the German Sovereign had preconceived war, not
only with France and Russia, but also with England, before the actual
declaration of hostilities.

Down to this time, and until several days later, I did not hear Belgium
mentioned in connection with the war, and for several reasons, not the
least of which was my ignorance of the German and Russian languages,
many facts relating to the operations of the Allies on the Western line
of hostilities did not become known to me until some time after they had
taken place. It must not be forgotten that this book is in no sense a
history of the Great War, but simply a narrative of my experiences with
the Russian Army in certain areas of the Eastern line of operations.
These experiences I purpose to give in diary form, and with little or no
reference to the fighting in other parts of the war area, of which I
knew almost nothing--or at any rate, nothing that was very reliable.

All day on the 31st July it was persistently declared at Ostrovo that
war had been declared against Russia and against France, and that it
would be declared against England on the morrow, which was Saturday, the
1st August. The persons who were responsible for these assertions were
the Army officers with whom I came in contact, and the people generally
of all classes. Not a word was said about Belgium.

On the afternoon of the 1st August the Kaiser is said to have ordered
the mobilization of the German Army. The German Army was already
mobilized so far as the Russian frontier was concerned, and had been so
for eight or nine days. On the line between Neustadt-Baranow, a distance
of about eighty English miles, there were concentrated five army corps,
with three cavalry divisions, about 250,000 men. These were supported by
two corps between Breslau and Glogau, two more at Posen, a large force
at Oppeln, and other troops at Oels, Tarnowitz, and places which I need
not name here. My calculation was that about 1,000,000 men were ready to
act on the line Neustadt-Tchenstochow. There was another 2,000,000 on
the line of frontier running northward through Thorn and East Prussia to
the Baltic, and probably a fourth million in reserve to support any
portion of the line indicated; and what was worth at least another
2,000,000 men to Germany was the fact that she _could move any portion
of these troops ten times more quickly than Russia could move her
forces_. It is officially stated that only 1,500,000 Germans were in
line in August. I think that my estimate is correct.

Meanwhile, conscious that I had not permitted myself to be over-cautious
in acquiring a dangerous knowledge, I was particularly anxious to leave
Germany as speedily as possible. Chance had brought me to what was to
become one of the most important points of the operations between
Prussia and Russia, and chance greatly favoured my escape from what I
began to fear was an awkward trap. Had I known what a nation of fiends
the Germans were going to prove themselves, my anxiety would have been
greatly increased. Thank God there is no race on earth in which all are
bad, all devoid of the attributes of humanity.

Late on the night of the 1st August (after I was in bed, indeed) the
young artillery officer I have several times mentioned came to my
friend's house. I do not think it would be wise or kind on my part to
mention his name, as he may still be alive. He was accompanied by Swartz
and a servant, with two horses, and recommended that I should cross the
Russian frontier immediately, as all Englishmen in Germany were in
danger of being interned. War with England was assumed by everybody to
be inevitable, insomuch that, being ignorant of the true state of
affairs, I assumed that an ultimatum had been sent to Germany by the
British Government. I was told that many leading German papers asserted
that it had been so sent.

I consented to leave at once, with the object of trying to reach Kalisz,
and from there taking train to Riga, where, it was thought, I should
find no difficulty in getting a steamboat passage to England. It is only
twelve miles by railway from Ostrovo to Kalisz, but the line was already
occupied by troops, "and," said the officers, "our forces will occupy
the Russian town before daybreak to-morrow."




CHAPTER II

THE SCENE AT KALISZ ON THE 2ND AUGUST, 1914


Had I not been under military escort I could not possibly have got along
any of the roads in the neighbourhood of Ostrovo--all were crowded by
Prussian infantry. I did not see any other branches of the service, but
I understood that the engineers were mining the railway-line, and about
half an hour after we started my friends declared that it would be
hopeless to try to reach Kalisz from the German side. They said they
must leave me, as it was imperative that they should rejoin their
regiments before the hour of parade. A road was pointed out to me as one
that led straight to the frontier, and that frontier I was recommended
to endeavour to cross. The horse was taken away, and, after shaking
hands with the officers and receiving their wishes of good-luck, I
proceeded across the fields on foot.

Pickets of cavalry and infantry were moving about the country, but I
avoided them, and after a two-hours' walk reached the low bank which I
knew marked the frontier-line. It was then after three o'clock, and
daylight was beginning to break. As far as I could see, nobody was
about. Some cows were in the field, and they followed me a short
distance--a worry at the time, as I feared they would attract attention
to my movements.

I jumped over the boundary, and walked in the direction of Kalisz, the
dome and spire and taller buildings of which were now visible some miles
to the northward. The country is very flat here--typical Polish ground,
without trees or bushes or hedges, the fields being generally separated
by ditches. It is a wild and lonely district, and very thinly peopled.
And I do not think there were any Russian troops in the town. If there
were, it must have been a very slender detachment, which fell back at
once; for if any firing had occurred, I must have seen and heard it. Not
a sound of this description reached my ears, but when I reached Kalisz
at 5.30 a.m. it was full of German soldiers, infantry and Uhlans--the
first definite information I had that war was actually declared between
the two countries, and the first intimation I received of how this war
was likely to be conducted, for many of the Germans were mad drunk, and
many more acting like wild beasts.

I passed through crowds of soldiers without being interfered with--a
wonderful circumstance. None of the shops were opened at that early
hour, but the Germans had smashed into some of them, and were helping
themselves to eatables and other things. I saw one unter-officer
cramming watches, rings, and other jewellery into his pockets. He was
quickly joined by other wretches, who cleared the shop in a very few
minutes.

Hardly knowing what to do, but realizing the danger of lurking about
without an apparent object in view, I continued to walk through the
streets in search of the railway-station, or a place where I could rest.
A provost and a party of military policemen were closing the
public-houses by nailing up the doors, and I saw a man only partly
dressed, the proprietor of one of these houses, I supposed, murdered. He
made an excited protest, and a soldier drove his bayonet into the poor
man's chest. He uttered a terrible scream, and was instantly transfixed
by a dozen bayonets. A woman, attracted by the fearful cry, came rushing
out of the house screaming and crying. She had nothing on except a
chemise, and the soldiers treated her with brutal indecency. I was
impelled to interfere for her protection. At that moment an officer came
up, and restored some order amongst the men, striking and pricking
several of them with his sword. He said something to me which I did not
understand, and, receiving no reply, struck me with his fist, and then
arrogantly waved his hand for me to be gone. I had no alternative. I
suppressed my wrath and moved away, but the horrible sight of the
bleeding man and the weeping woman haunted me until I became used to
such sights--and worse.

As I walked through the streets I heard the screams of women and
children on all sides, mingled with the coarse laughter and shouts of
men, which told plainly enough what was taking place, though I could not
understand a word of what was said. I was struck by drunken or excited
soldiers more than once, and kicked, but to retaliate or use the weapon
with which I was armed would, I could perceive, result in my instant
destruction; so I smothered my wrath for the time.

Many women rushed into the streets dressed in their night-clothes only,
some of them stained with blood, as evidence of the ill-usage they had
suffered; and I passed the dead bodies of two men lying in the road, one
of which was that of a youth. These, there can be no doubt, were the
first acts of war on the part of Germany against Russia--the slaughter
of unarmed and defenceless people.

In one of the principal streets I found two hotels or large
public-houses open. They were both full of German officers, some of whom
were drunk. At an upper window one man was being held out by his legs,
while a comrade playfully spanked him, and a wild orgy was going on in
the room behind. Bottles and glasses were thrown into the street, and a
party of German prostitutes vied in bestiality with the men. I saw the
hellish scene. Had I read an account of it, I should at once have
stamped the writer in my heart as a liar. I am not going to dwell on the
filthy horrors of that day. I do little more than hint at what took
place, and only remark that at this hour no act of war, no fair fight or
military operation, had taken place on any of Germany's borders. She
showed the bestiality of the cowardly hyena before a fang had been bared
against her. This was the information I afterwards obtained from Russian
sources. On the morning Kalisz was sacked, not a shot had been fired by
the Russian soldiers.

My needs compelled me to take risks. All the belongings I had with me
were contained in a small bag which I carried in my hand. I had some
German money in my pocket, and a number of English sovereigns. The
remainder of my luggage I had been compelled to leave behind at Ostrovo.
Entering the quietest of the two hotels, I found the proprietor and
several of his servants or members of his family trembling in the
basement. I was stopped at the door by a sentry, but he was a quiet sort
of youth, accepted a few marks, and while he was putting them in his
pouch permitted me to slip into the house.

I have already intimated that I am no linguist. I could not muster a
dozen words of German, and not one of Russian; so, holding the
proprietor to insure his attention (the poor man was almost in a state
of collapse), I made motions that I wished to eat and drink. No doubt
they took me for a German. One of the maids literally rushed to the
cellar, and returned with two large bottles of champagne of the size
which our great-grandfathers, I believe, called "magnums," containing
about two quarts apiece.

But champagne was not what I wanted, so I looked round till I found a
huge teapot. The face of the maid was expressionless, but she was not
lacking in intelligence. The Russians are great tea-drinkers, and I soon
had a good breakfast before me, with plenty of the refreshing beverage.
A Russian breakfast differs much from an English early morning meal, but
on this occasion I contrived to obtain bacon and eggs, which, in spite
of all doctors and economists say to the contrary, is one of the best
foods in existence for travelling or fighting on.

Before I had well finished this meal one of the riotous officers came
downstairs. He made a sudden stop when he saw me, and blinked and winked
like an owl in sunlight, for he had had plenty of liquor. He asked some
question, and as I could not very well sit like a speechless booby, I
replied in my own language.

"Good-morning," rather dryly, I am afraid.

"An English pig!" he exclaimed.

"An Englishman," I corrected.

[At least 50 per cent. of German officers speak English quite fluently,
and an even greater number French, learned in the native countries of
these languages.]

"Bah-a-a-a!" he exclaimed, prolonging the interjection grotesquely. "Do
you know that we have wrecked London, blown your wonderful Tower and
Tower Bridge and your St. Paul's to dust, killed your King, and our
Zeppelins are now wrecking Manchester and Liverpool and your other fine
manufacturing towns?"

"Nonsense!" I said.

"It is true, I assure you," he replied.

The news sent a terrible thrill through my nerves, for I did not yet
know what liars Germans could be, and I did not think a Prussian officer
could stoop to be so mendacious a scoundrel as this fellow proved to be.

"Then there is war between England and Germany?" I asked, wondering at
its sudden outbreak. "When was it declared?"

"It is not declared. We have taken time by the forelock, as you British
say--as we mean to take it with all who dare to oppose us. You are a
stinking Englishman, and I'll have you shot!" he concluded furiously.

Going to the foot of the stairs, he began to call to his companions,
reviling the English, and declaring that there was a spy below. As his
drunken comrades did not hear him or immediately respond, he ascended
the stairs, and I took the opportunity to put down some money for my
breakfast, catch up my bag, and escape from the house.

At the top of the street the road broadened out into a kind of square or
open space, and as I reached this spot a large number of soldiers
brought eight prisoners into the centre of it. Three of them were
dressed in what I took to be the uniforms of Russian officers, three
others were gendarmes or policemen. The other two wore the dress of
civilians. All were very pale and serious-looking, but all were firm
except one of the civilians, who I could see was trembling, while his
knees were shaking so that he could scarcely stand. A German officer of
rank--I believe a Major-General--stood in front of them and interrogated
one of the Russian officers, who looked at him sternly and did not
reply. The German also read something from a paper he held in his hand,
while six men were ranged before each one of the prisoners. I saw what
was about to take place, but before I was prepared for it the German
stood aside and waved his hand. Instantly the firing-parties raised
their rifles and shot down the eight prisoners. They were not all killed
outright. One man rolled about in dreadful agony, two others tried to
rise after falling, and a fourth attempted to run away. A sickening
fusillade ensued; at least a hundred shots were fired before all the
victims lay stark and quiet. Nor were they the only victims. The officer
in charge of the firing-party took no precautions, uttered no warnings,
and several of the spectators were struck by the bullets, while there
was a wild stampede of civilians from the square.

Let it be noted that these ferocious murders took place before a shot
had been fired, so far as I know, between the armed forces of the two
nations.

I never heard who the slain men were, or why they were put to death; but
from what I afterwards read in English newspapers I suppose that the
Mayor of Kalisz was one of them.




CHAPTER III

THE EVENTS PRECEDING ACTUAL HOSTILITIES


Why were there no Russian soldiers in the neighbourhood of Kalisz in the
beginning of August, 1914? The answer is simple.

Kalisz is an open town, with a single line running to Warsaw,
140 miles, via Lodz and Lowicz. The nearest branch lines are the
Warsaw-Tchenstochow on the south, with nearest point to Kalisz about
ninety English miles away; and the Warsaw-Plock line to Thorn, with
nearest point to Kalisz, also about ninety miles. So far as transport
was concerned, the Russians were not in it at all.

For on the German side of the frontier there is a complete and very
elaborate network of railways, so that the Teuton could mass 1,000,000
men on Kalisz long before the Muscovite could transport 100,000 there.
This is what harassed the last-named Power--want of railways. Wherever
they tried to concentrate, the Germans were before them, and in
overwhelming numbers. It is her elaborate railway system that has
enabled Germany to get the utmost from her armies--to get the work of
two or three corps, and in some cases even more, out of one. Her
railways have practically doubled her armed force--this at least.

The Germans are masters of the art of war, and have been so for fifty
years; the Russians are hard fighters, but they are not scientific
soldiers. The Germans have consolidated and perfected everything that
relates to armed science; the Russians have trusted too much to their
weight of numbers. Yet the Bear, though a slow and dull animal, has
devilish long and strong claws; and, like another animal engaged in this
contest for the existence of the world, has the habit so provoking to
his enemies, of never knowing when he is beaten.

The reason, then, that there was no sufficient force, if any force at
all, near Kalisz when the treacherous Teuton suddenly sprung hostilities
upon her on the 1st August, 1914, was that the Muscovite, through apathy
inherited from his Asiatic ancestors, combined with a paucity of money,
had no railways, while his opponent had one of the most complete systems
of locomotive transport for men and material that is to be found in the
whole world.

It was its isolated situation and great distance from a base that made
Kalisz the weak point on the Russian frontier, and the German Eagle saw
this and swooped on it as a bird of prey on a damless lamb.

But the Russian base, if distant, was strong, and the force and material
at Warsaw was powerful and great, and was in ponderous motion long
before the Vulture had picked clean the bones of her first victim.
Russia has no great fortress on the German frontier. This is another
serious fault of defence. Railways and fortresses are the need of the
Northern Power to enable her to control effectually the bird of ill omen
which has so long hovered over Central Europe, unless that bird is to
die for all time, which is what should be, and which is what will be,
unless the folly of the nations is incurable.

After witnessing the terrible scene described in the last chapter my
feelings of insecurity and uncertainty were greatly increased. By means
of a plan in my possession I found my way to the railway-station. It was
in the hands of the German troops, thousands of whom crowded the
building and its vicinity, and a glance was sufficient to show that I
could not leave Kalisz by means of the railway. According to my plan,
there were stations further up the line in an easterly direction, some
of them at no great distance from Kalisz; but I felt sure these would be
occupied by the Germans before I could reach them.

Personal safety required that I should make an immediate effort to
escape. More than once I had noticed Teutonic eyes regarding me with
suspicious glances--at least, so I thought--and I quite realized that
delay would be dangerous.

Re-entering the town, which is a place of about 25,000 inhabitants, I
reached the open country to the north through back streets, resolved to
endeavour to reach Lodz by making a wide detour from the line, which was
sure to be occupied by the hostile troops. What reception I should meet
with from the hands of the Russian soldiers I could not tell, but I
felt sure that it would not be worse than that I might expect from their
foes.

By this time it was past midday, and the streets of Kalisz were nearly
deserted. I saw only one or two male fugitives hurrying along,
apparently bent, like myself, on escape. As soon as I reached a retired
spot I tore my maps and plans to shreds and threw them away. I had no
doubt what it would mean to be caught with such things on me.

Patrols of cavalry, Uhlans and hussars, were scouring the country in all
directions. Peasants in the fields were running together, and the
hussars beat many of them with their sabres, but I do not think they
killed any at this time. The Uhlans wounded some by tearing them down
with the hooks with which the staves of their lances are furnished, and
I saw a party of them amusing themselves by rending the clothes off a
poor old woman who was working in one of the fields.

Perceiving that it would be impossible to avoid these cavalrymen, I
looked about for a hiding-place. There was a range of low buildings
about a quarter of a mile from the ditch in which I was crouching. The
place seemed to be a farm, with a number of barns or sheds on one side
of it, some of which were scattered about irregularly. I reached the
nearest of these without attracting notice, and found there a weeping
woman and two men, one of whom was bleeding badly from wounds on the
head and face. They looked at me, and the unhurt man said something
which I did not understand. A party of hussars was riding towards the
shed. As a forlorn chance of escape, I lay down on the floor and pulled
some straw over me as well as I could. Apparently the men and woman ran
away, and by so doing diverted the attention of the hussars from the
shed. I lay there till dusk, when the unhurt man and the woman came back
carrying a bowl of milk and some coarse bread, which they gave to me. I
was very glad of it, having tasted nothing since the morning. They
spoke, but chiefly together, as they perceived that I could not
understand them.

Soon afterwards, expressing my thanks as well as I could, I left the
shed and proceeded on my way towards Lodz. There was sufficient light to
enable me to preserve a general direction and to avoid the numerous
parties of German cavalry which were patrolling the country, but long
before the night was over I had got beyond these. I do not think they
extended more than ten or twelve miles beyond the points at which they
had invaded Poland.

During the night I met with no adventures more serious than floundering
into several water-courses and falling into a couple of ditches in
endeavouring to jump them, for the ditches are very wide and deep in
this country. To avoid such accidents, I afterwards kept to the roads.
These are not bounded by hedges or fences of any kind, and there was
nearly an entire absence of bridges. Arriving at a brook, the traveller
might or might not find stepping-stones. In the absence of these, one
had to wade through the water, which in one case I experienced at this
time came nearly up to the knees.

I could not know, of course, if the people knew that a state of war
existed, but I saw no watchmen or police about the few hamlets and the
villages I passed through. Once I was attacked by a couple of very
fierce dogs, and was compelled to kill one of them to get free; but
until after four o'clock the next morning no men appeared. A few of
those who saluted me seemed surprised that I did not make a reply, but I
could only raise my hat, and by doing so I perhaps occasioned greater
astonishment than I would have done by entirely ignoring them.

There were hardly any trees in this country. The farms and isolated
houses were usually marked by a poplar or two and a clump of willows,
and there were some willows along the courses of the streams. The
buildings, except the churches, were generally very low-pitched, and
there was a singular paucity of chimneys, since stoves were the nearly
universal means of warming the rooms; indeed, I saw stoves in this
country which were almost rooms in themselves, with sleeping-places
above the flues. Turf was the chief fuel used, and the dried droppings
of horses and cattle.

There was a shower of rain during the night, but the morning broke clear
and bright, and it was daylight long before I was as far beyond the
reach of the Huns as I could have wished to be. The country seemed to be
very sparsely peopled. The peasantry were early risers, and most of
them seemed to be in the fields before five o'clock. The crops were to a
great extent cut, and some were in process of cartage in heavy waggons.
It was a very hot day.

About ten o'clock I stopped at the door of a farm and made signs that I
wanted food and drink. I was afraid to offer German money, though this
would probably have been better understood than the tender of an English
sovereign. The man took the coin, looked at it, bit it, and rubbed it,
and handed it to a group of women and girls--his mother, wife and
daughters, I thought. The image of His Majesty King George was evidently
taken to be that of the Czar; but the denomination of the coin puzzled
the farmer and excited great curiosity amongst the women. However, my
wants were understood, and I obtained butter, bread, tea and cheese of a
kind I had never previously eaten, and also some excellent honeycomb,
but no kind of meat. The farmer wanted me to take back the sovereign,
but it was so evidently coveted by his wife that I pressed it upon her
until she pocketed it. In return I brought away as much provision as I
could carry.

Before midday I thought I had walked about thirty miles, though not in a
direct line. By this time I had arrived at a river which I knew must be
the Warta. It was not very wide, but the banks where I struck it were
deep, and crumbling away; and the stream was unfordable. Not knowing
what else to do I turned southwards along its banks towards Sieradz,
hoping to reach a village where I might be ferried across; but just as
I was about to enter a small hamlet, I was confronted by two policemen.
They jabbered at me and I jabbered at them; but if ever "No nonsense"
were seen in a human countenance I saw it in that of policeman No. 1. I
produced my passports. One of these gave me permission to cross the
Russian frontier; but as it was obtained in Germany I would, under the
circumstances, have gladly suppressed it. Unfortunately it was folded up
with the English-German document, and I was not sharp enough to separate
them before No. 1 sighted the document, and demanded it with an
impatient gesture. This he could read, but the other puzzled him; not
that this circumstance interfered with the promptitude of his action. I
saw with half an eye that I had to go somewhere with this Russian
policeman: and the "somewhere" proved to be the lock-up in a tiny hamlet
the name of which I never learned.

This wretched hole was three-parts under ground, about seven feet long,
and scarcely four wide--a den evidently designed for torture: for one
could not turn round in it without difficulty; and how to sleep in such
a place puzzled me, though I was spared the ordeal of having to do so.
For a few hours after I was incarcerated I was fetched out and handed
over to the charge of five mounted cossacks, the leader seeming to be a
corporal. I was handcuffed to the stirrups of this gentleman and one of
his comrades, an arrangement which gave me the option of walking or
being dragged along. All the party carried villainous-looking whips in
addition to rifles, sabres and lances. But they did not force the pace,
and when we had gone about five miles we overtook a light cart, which
the corporal stopped, and placed me therein. We then travelled at the
rate of eight or nine miles an hour, halting at a roadside inn for
drink, which I paid for with another English sovereign. Again the coin
excited much curiosity, but the corporal saw that I obtained a fair
amount of change in Russian money and I was civilly treated on the
whole.

In less than two hours we arrived at the small town of Szadek, though I
did not know the name of the place at the time. It is only twenty
English miles (twenty-seven versts) from Lodz, and here for the first
time since crossing the German frontier I saw Russian troops in force. I
did not have the opportunity of seeing the strength of these troops; but
Szadek was full of infantry, and we passed a great many tents before
entering the town. It was nightfall when we arrived; but I was
immediately taken to an hotel and questioned by an officer of General
rank. Finding that I could not speak Russian, he tried German, and I
said, in the best French I could muster, that I was an Englishman. I am
not sufficient master of the polite language of Europe to carry on a
conversation in it, so the officer sent for a Russian Major, Polchow,
who spoke English fluently, and he acted as interpreter.

My story was listened to with great interest, especially those parts of
it which related to the movements and conduct of the German troops and
the murder of citizens at Kalisz. I underwent a lengthened
cross-examination, and, I suppose, the nature of my communications
becoming known, the room was speedily crowded by officers, most of them
evidently of high rank. It was after midnight before I was dismissed,
having, I could see, made a favourable impression on all those who were
present. It was then I learned, to my great relief, that the German
accounts of the destruction of London, etc., were falsehoods. "As yet
there is no war between Germany and England; but there will be in a few
days," said the General.

Speaking through Major Polchow, the General further said, "You have come
to Russia for help and protection: you shall have them. What do you
wish?" In reply I said that I desired to return to my own country as
speedily as possible, but that if the Germans, being near at hand, came
up before arrangements could be made for my departure, I should be glad
to use a rifle against them.

It was then explained to me that all the inn accommodation in Szadek
being taken up I could be offered only a tent lodging, but that every
endeavour would be made to render me comfortable. Then Major Polchow
offered to look after me, and I accompanied him to a private house where
he was billeted.

I much regret that I have forgotten the name of this obliging officer
before whom I was examined, which name, a very unpronounceable one, was
only casually mentioned, and was forgotten in the excitement of the
events which immediately followed.

Polchow was an artillery officer, attached to a South Russian regiment,
but afterwards to an East Russian regiment, which lost all its
officers--with one or two exceptions at any rate. I was entertained by
him most royally.

On the following day I underwent another long examination before an
Adjutant of the Grand Duke Nicholas and a large number of Staff
officers, and was much complimented on my adventures and the value of
the information I was able to give. These matters I must ask to be
excused for passing over with bare mention. I expected to have had an
interview with the Grand Duke himself; but he departed that evening
without my having seen him.

The offer was made to send me on to Riga or Libau, or any port I might
choose; and to facilitate my departure to my own country; but I am an
Englishman, thank God, and I was not inclined to turn my back on my
country's foes until I had seen the whites of their eyes and let them
see mine. For by this time we were beginning to learn something of
German dirt, and German cruelty.




CHAPTER IV

THE FIRST FIGHT


It became necessary to know what the Germans were doing, or appeared to
be going to do. Fugitives from Kalisz and the country eastward of it
reported that thousands of Germans were pouring over the border, and it
was known to Headquarters that they were gradually pressing onwards to
Lodz.

On the 6th, 7th, and 8th August, the 4th Cossacks of the Don, and five
other cavalry regiments, with some light guns, were engaged in
reconnaissance, and the result was to ascertain that the Germans were
entrenching themselves on a line from Kalisz to Sieradz, covering the
railway; and also extending their earthworks right and left along the
banks of the Warta, thus forming a strong point, on Russian soil, for an
advance on Warsaw. I was riding in the ranks of the 4th, and can say,
from personal observation, that the works mentioned were of a formidable
description, and armed with heavy guns.

On the 8th the Zeithen Hussars charged the 4th, which fell back; and the
hussars were taken in hand by the 12th Russian Dragoons and very roughly
handled. I counted forty dead bodies; but the Germans advanced some
infantry and guns, and saved their wounded. Their total loss could not
have been less than 140 men. The dragoons had two men killed and about
a dozen wounded, mostly by the fire of infantry. The general idea that
the Germans are good swordsmen is erroneous. They are very poor
broadswordsmen; and the Russians are inferior to the French in the use
of this weapon.

I expected that the affair would develop into a general action, but it
did not. The force of German cavalry was much inferior to that of the
Russian, and they soon fell back, trying to lure our men under infantry
and artillery fire. In this they did not succeed; but I believe that on
our extreme right they did some execution with long-range shell fire.
Why the Russians did not bring up infantry and artillery I am unable to
conjecture. It is my opinion that there was something behind which did
not appear to a spectator in my position. The Germans had certainly
prepared something resembling a trap; and possibly the Russian commander
saw, or suspected, more than was perceptible to the ordinary eye. At any
rate he held his men back at a moment when I expected to see them
advance and outflank the enemy. The fighting which followed was
decidedly desultory and without important results. There was much
artillery firing from guns which were, I think, four or five English
miles from that part of the Russian position where I was. It did so very
little execution that I considered it was a mere waste of ammunition.

In this combat the Russians seemed to be superior in strength of all
three arms, which was the reason, I suppose, that the enemy did not make
a decided advance. He was probably waiting for reinforcements, which
did not arrive until late in the day, if they came up at all. On the
other hand, there was a force of German infantry lying in wait, and this
body of troops may have been stronger than appeared.

I can only be responsible for what I saw, though I feel at liberty to
repeat what I heard where probability of its truth may be inferred. I
have also looked through files of English newspapers; and I cannot
attempt to veil the fact that I must often be, or appear to be, in
contradiction to accounts that were published about the time the
narrated incidents were recorded to have taken place. Naturally, first
records were imperfect, or needed explanations; but some things appeared
in English papers which it is difficult to understand. For instance, it
is said to be "officially reported from Petrograd" that the frontier was
not crossed by the Germans in the neighbourhood of Kalisz, and that no
fighting took place until the 14th or 15th August. (I am not sure which
date is meant; or whether the old or new system is intended.) Both these
assertions are incorrect, and could not have emanated from an "official"
source. The Russians are our allies, and personally I received great
kindness from the hands of many of them; but the only value of a
narrative of the kind I am writing is its correctness, and I intend to
record the truth without fear and without favour. I cannot perceive that
it would be any advantage to them to make a misstatement. The assertion
is probably an error. At any rate I can state, and do positively state,
that the frontier was crossed by the Germans at Kalisz; and that
fighting took place at several points before the 14th August. Possibly
the accounts were published before correction.

At this time I learned that there was a line of strong posts from Dabie
to Petrikau, a distance of, roughly, eighty versts. These, probably,
outflanked the Germans; and reinforcements were daily arriving in vast
numbers, prolonging the line in the direction of the Vistula some
seventy versts north of Dabie. The country between Dabie and the named
river was patrolled by an enormous horde of cavalry--at least
20,000--and infantry and artillery were coming up by march route, there
being no railway except the Kutno-Warsaw narrow-gauge line, which was
used chiefly for the transport of ammunition and stores. This line runs
direct to Thorn, one of Germany's strong frontier fortresses; and the
Russians tried to push along it as far as possible; but the Germans sent
flying parties into Russia as far as Wroclawick, fifty versts from
Thorn, and completely destroyed the line. In doing this they suffered
some losses, for a Russian force crossed the Vistula near Nieszawa and
attacked one of the working-parties. They claimed to have killed and
wounded 300 of the enemy, and they brought in ninety prisoners, four of
whom were officers.

The only fighting I saw during these operations was between two cavalry
pickets. There were thirty Cossacks on our side. I do not know how many
Germans there were, but they were reinforced continually during the
fight until they compelled us to fall back. They held the verge of a
pine-wood, while the Cossacks sheltered themselves behind some scattered
trees, fighting, of course, dismounted with their horses picketed a mile
behind them and left in charge of a trumpeter.

So far as I could see, the fight was a completely useless one. It
resulted in the death of two men on our side, and six wounded. The
firing lasted nearly three hours and would probably have gone on much
longer had not our men run out of cartridges. In this little skirmish I
shot off a hundred rounds myself, with what result must be left to the
imagination; for, as the distance was 900 yards, I had not even the
satisfaction of seeing the branches of the trees flying about. The
German bullets cut off many twigs from our trees, and the trumpeter
afterwards reported that several of their shots fell amongst the horses
without doing any damage. It showed the great range of the German
weapons, and also the very bad shooting of the men.

We drew off, and some of the hussars came out of the wood, mounted their
horses, and looked after us; but they did not attempt to follow us.
Enterprise was not a prominent attribute of the German cavalry, nor,
indeed, of the mounted force of our own side, though the Cossacks
sometimes showed considerable boldness. Often I longed for the presence
of a few regiments of British or French cavalry, for some splendid
opportunities were let slip by the Russian troopers; not from want of
bravery, but simply from the lack of that daring dash which is a
distinguishing feature of all good horsemanship.

Yet, notwithstanding the want of energy on the part of the Russian
mounted men, they were continually on the move, and, as I soon
discovered for myself, were gradually moving to the north, apparently
covering the advance of an ever-increasing mass of infantry and
artillery. Polchow's battery was attached to the brigade of Cossacks of
which the 4th was one of the units. The reason that I connected myself
with this particular corps was because one of its officers spoke a
little English; but it was so little that we frequently had much
difficulty in understanding each other. I soon learned the Russian words
of command and the names of common things and objects, and I often acted
as officer of a squadron (or "sotnia," as the men call it); but I felt
that I would rather be with Polchow, and I soon became attached to his
battery as a "cadet," though I was the oldest man in the unit.

It was a "horse" battery; but the horse artillery in the Russian service
is not a separately organized body as it is in the British Army. The
guns are simply well-horsed, and the limbers, waggons, etc., rendered as
light and mobile as possible. The batteries have not the dash and go of
English horse-artillery; and I should be very sorry to see a Russian
battery attempt to gallop over a ditch or other troublesome obstacle, as
I can foresee what the result would be. The Russian horse-artillery is a
sort of advanced-guard of the gunnery arm and has no special training
for its duties. In several important particulars its equipment and
organization differs from ours.

At this time there were said to be several Englishmen, two Frenchmen,
and Swedes, Norwegians and Dutch, in the Russian service. I never met
any of them, but I know there was a German, born and bred in
Brandenburg, an officer in the 178th line, who was permitted to remain
in the Muscovite Army; and who fought with invincible bravery and
determination against his countrymen. There was a mystery about him, the
actual nature of which I never learned; but it was said that he had
received some injury which had implanted in his breast a fierce hatred
of the land of his birth.

For two days after I had joined the artillery we were making forced
marches to the north, and on the 16th we crossed the Vistula at Plock.
The next day we were in front of the enemy between Biezun and Przasnysz,
with our left flank resting on a marshy lake near the first-named place.
Beyond the lake this flank was supported by a very large body of
cavalry--twenty-four regiments I think, or not less than 14,000 men.
This large force effectually kept off the much inferior German cavalry.
It suffered a good deal from shell-fire, but our artillery prevented the
Prussian infantry from inflicting any losses on it.

The country had been raided by the Germans before our arrival, and they
had committed many atrocities. The young women had been abused, and the
older ones cruelly ill-treated. The hamlets and isolated farms had been
burnt down; in some cases the ruins were still smouldering; and what had
become of the inhabitants did not appear. Some at least had been slain:
for we found the body of one woman lying, head downwards, in a filthy
gutter which drained a farmyard; and on the other side of the building,
two men hanging from the same tree. The woman had been killed by a blow
on the head which had smashed the skull, and her body had been treated
with shameful irreverence. The gunners of the battery buried these three
poor creatures in the same grave while we were waiting for orders to go
into action.

Afterwards, while searching the ruined house, the men found the body of
a bed-ridden cripple who had been murdered by bayonet-thrusts; and,
under the bed, were three young children half dead with fright and
starvation. There was also a baby of a few months old, lying in its cot,
dead from want of food and attention, we supposed, as there were no
marks of grosser violence on the little mite.

These sights and others seen in the neighbourhood had a terrible effect
on the usually phlegmatic Russian soldiers, and afterwards cost many
Germans their lives: for I know that wounded men and prisoners were
slain in retaliation, and civilians too, when portions of the frontier
were crossed, as will be found recorded later on.

We were puzzled what to do with the children, for it would have been
inhuman to leave them in a plundered and wrecked home; the oldest
appearing to be not more than six years old. It was remembered that we
had seen a woman at a cottage two miles to the rear, and so, accompanied
by an orderly, I rode back with them. We found several women taking
refuge in the house, and, though we could not understand one another, it
was evident that we were leaving the poor little creatures amongst
friends, as I could see by the attitude of the orderly.

When we got back to the farm we found that the battery had been
advanced, and we had some difficulty in finding it. I had to leave that
work to the orderly, an old non-commissioned officer named Chouraski,
who afterwards acted as my servant.

The battery, with the rest of the regiment, and several others, about
200 guns in all, was massed behind a sandbank--not a wise arrangement.
Other batteries were bringing a cross-fire to bear from distances which
I computed to be two and three miles from our position. The Germans were
evidently suffering severely, and so were we. One of our batteries had
all its guns dismounted or put out of action, and many other guns were
destroyed, though in some cases the gunners got them on fresh wheels, or
even limbers. All the men were cool and brave beyond praise, though the
effects of the fire were very terrible. One shell burst as it hit the
body of a gunner, who was literally blown to pieces. Another shot
smashed away the head of a man standing close to me. He threw up his
hands, and stood rigid so long that I thought he was not going to fall.
The sight of the headless trunk standing there with blood streaming
over the shoulders was so horrible that it was quite a relief to the
nerves when he dropped. The gunners, who had stood still paralyzed by
the sight, resumed their work; but they had not fired more than a round
or two, when a shell smashed the gun-shield and wiped out the whole
detachment. A piece of this shell entered the forehead of my horse and
it fell like a pole-axed ox, dying with scarcely a quiver of the
muscles.

Although the shield was destroyed the gun was not put out of action, and
I got a couple of men from another gun, and we continued to fire it.
This went on hour after hour, until all the shells (shrapnel and common)
were expended. Twice a fresh supply was brought up by the reserve
ammunition column men, and altogether about 500 rounds per gun were shot
off in this part of the field, or about 100,000 in all. As there were at
least 600 guns in action it is probable that 500,000 shells were thrown
against the enemy; an enormous number; and nobody will be surprised to
learn that the slaughter was terrible. Many of our guns were cleared of
men over and over again, reserve gunners being sent up from the rear as
they were required, the men running up quite eager to be engaged, and,
generally speaking, taking no notice of the casualties which were
constantly occurring close to them.

I strove hard to draw the attention of every officer within reach to the
faulty position of the guns; but all were very excited, and my
unfortunate ignorance of their language prevented me from making myself
understood. I did not know what had become of Major Polchow, but late in
the afternoon he came up with a staff officer, and I pointed out to him
the unnecessary slaughter which was taking place owing to the exposed
position of the guns. He said that the error had been observed long
before, but that it was considered to be unwise to retire them. Now,
however, so many of the artillerymen had fallen that dozens of the guns
were silenced, so an attempt was made to draw back the most exposed of
the batteries. The horses had been sheltered in a hollow a hundred yards
in the rear, yet even in their comparatively protected position so many
of them had been killed and mangled that it was only possible to move
back three guns at a time.

The Germans observed the movement, with the result that men, guns,
waggons, and horses, were smashed to pieces in a horrible and very
nerve-trying confusion. Many of the incidents were almost too horrible
to be described. The leg of one man was blown off by a bursting shell.
He saved himself from falling by clutching a gun-carriage; but this was
on the move and dragged him down. The bleeding was stopped by a roughly
improvised tourniquet; he was laid on the ground with his coat under his
head and left to his fate.

When the guns were drawn back to the new position very few casualties
occurred; but at this time the Germans made a determined onset with huge
masses of infantry in close columns of companies--an amazing formation,
but one which I was prepared to see executed, knowing their general
tactics as practised on peace manoeuvres.

At this moment we had only twelve shells per gun left. These twelve cut
great lanes deep into the advancing masses, but did not stop them, and
orders were given to retire. Two of our guns were drawn away by the
prolonge (that is, by means of ropes manned by men on foot), and two
were abandoned. We should certainly have been overtaken and destroyed;
but about a thousand yards to the rear we found three regiments of
infantry halted in a slight hollow of the ground. These 12,000 men
suddenly rushed forward and opened a tremendous fusillade on the
advancing masses, bringing them down so fast that the appearance of
falling men was continuous and had a very extraordinary effect. But they
were not stopped, and our infantry was compelled to fall back with the
guns, losing heavily from the fire which the Germans kept up as they
advanced.

Our infantry, like that of the Germans, kept much too close a formation,
and the losses were therefore appalling. Thus, early in the war, all the
Russian units were at full strength; infantry four battalions per
regiment--fully 4,000 men. The three regiments behind us lost half their
strength, equal to 6,000 men, in twenty minutes; and the remnant was
saved only by reaching a pine-wood about a mile in length and some 300
yards in depth. This enabled them to check the Germans; and two
batteries of artillery coming up, evidently sent from another division
to support us, they were compelled to halt, lying down on the ground
for such shelter as it afforded, to wait for their own artillery. This
did not come up until it was nearly dusk. Before it opened fire we began
to retreat and we were not pursued.

We fell back on two small hamlets with a farm between them, and here we
entrenched ourselves, putting the buildings into a state of defence.
Distant firing was heard all night, and we received a fresh supply of
ammunition, and heard that 150 of the guns were saved. As we had thirty
with us it was estimated that about twenty had fallen into the hands of
the enemy besides twenty or thirty machine-guns.

Outposts reporting that the German division which had pursued us had
retired northwards, I proposed, as soon as it was light enough for us to
see our way, that a party should go out to look for the wounded men of
our battery. These brave fellows had done their duty as only heroes do
it--without a moment's hesitation, or the least flinching at the most
trying moments; and with scarcely a groan from the horribly wounded,
whose sufferings must have been excruciating.

Although unable to understand a word I uttered, all who stood by, when
informed by Polchow of what was proposed, volunteered to accompany me. I
took about thirty men with stretchers, which were mostly made of hurdles
obtained at the farm.

It was about three English miles to the spot where the batteries had
been first posted and the whole distance was thickly littered with dead
bodies of Germans and Russians intermingled. All the wounded except
those desperately hurt had been removed, but none of the enemy were
about. They appeared to be kept off by strong patrols of our cavalry,
which could be seen in the distance; and, doubtless, the German horsemen
were in view, as desultory shots were fired from time to time.

[Illustration: RUSSIAN ARTILLERY GOING INTO ACTION]

Dying men made piteous appeals for drink. One poor fellow expired while
we were in the act of attending to him. The horribly inhuman nature of
the Germans was evinced by the circumstance that they had made prisoners
of all the wounded who would probably recover, and count in their lists
of capture; but had left the mortal cases (even their own) unattended,
to linger out a dreadful and agonized end. Their lack of feeling was
fiendish. They had not even endeavoured to alleviate the sufferings of
the men thus abandoned: for we found one German groaning, and seemingly
praying for succour, pinned down under a dead horse. He was not even
dangerously hurt, and would, I think, recover under the treatment he
would receive from the Russians. For though these northern men were
often barbarous enough on the field of battle, they were never cruel to
their prisoners, or to injured men, unless these were known to have been
guilty of atrocities.

The sights of that battlefield, and others which I afterwards witnessed,
will be a nightmare to the end of life. I had often read of rivers
"running red with blood," and thought this simply poetic exaggeration;
but when we went to a brook to obtain water for some gasping men, I
noticed that it was horribly tinged with dark red streaks, which seemed
to be partly coagulated blood. Some light fragments which floated by
were undoubtedly human brains; yet at their urgent entreaty we gave of
this water to poor creatures to drink, for no other was available.

This horror was not comparable to what we witnessed when we arrived at
the spot where the artillery slaughter had taken place. The ground was
covered with dark patches--blood blotches. Fragments of flesh, arms,
legs, limbs of horses, and scattered intestines, lay everywhere about
that horrible "first position." On the ground lay a human eye and within
an inch or two of it, a cluster of teeth; all that remained of some poor
head that had been dashed away. Where the body was that had owned these
relics did not appear. The force of impact had probably driven them
yards and yards; and it was a mere chance that they met my view. Close
to one of our guns, too badly broken to be worth carrying away by the
enemy, were two brawny hands, tightly clasping the handle of the sponge
with which their owner had been cleaning the piece when they had been
riven from his body. The man was close by, a mere mass of smashed flesh
and bones, with thousands of beastly flies battening on his gore, as
they were on that of all the corpses. The sight was unbearable. Sick and
nearly fainting, I had to lean against a broken waggon to recover
myself.

Our wounded had been murdered. There could be no question of that. For
we had not left any behind who were capable of fighting, yet a dozen had
been finished off by bayonet wounds--and German bayonets make awful
jagged wounds because their weapons have saw-backs.

One bayoneted gunner was not quite dead. At long intervals--about a
minute it seemed to me--he made desperate efforts to breathe; and every
time he did so bubbles of blood welled from the wound in his breast, and
a horrible gurgling sound came from both throat and breast. There were
two doctors in our party, but they looked at each other, and shook their
heads when they examined this miserable man. Nothing could be done for
him except to place him in a more comfortable position. War is hellish.

We found another of our men alive. His plight was so terrible that it
was hardly worth while to increase his suffering by carrying him away.
We did so: but he died before we had gone two versts. On that part of
the field which the Germans had been compelled to cross without waiting
to carry out their fell work, we found more survivors, and took back a
dozen, of whom three were Germans. There happened to be no Red Cross men
with our division just then; but we sent them to the rear in empty
provision waggons.

This is what I saw of the battle of Biezum, if this is its correct
designation. According to Polchow the Russian centre was at Radnazovo, a
town, or large village, eleven versts further east; and the whole front
extended more than thirty versts, though the hottest fighting was near
Biezum. It was afterwards reported that 10,000 Russians were killed in
this engagement, and 40,000 wounded. The Germans must have lost heavily
too. I saw thousands of their dead lying on the ground near Biezum
alone. The fight was not a victory for the Russians, and scarcely could
be claimed as such by the Germans. The two forces remained in contact,
and fighting continued with more or less intensity until it developed
into what modern battles seem destined to be, a prolonged series of
uninterrupted operations.




CHAPTER V

THE FIGHTING UP TO THE 26TH AUGUST


There appeared to be nearly 300 men in Polchow's battery when we went
into action: only fifty-nine remained with the four guns we saved at the
close of the day, and not one of these escaped a more or less serious
hurt, though some were merely scratched by small fragments of shell or
bruised by shrapnel bullets. At least twenty of the men would have been
justified in going to hospital; several ultimately had to do so, and one
died. Even British soldiers could not have shown greater heroism.
Chouraski, the non-commissioned officer who had attached himself to me,
had a bullet through the fleshy part of the left arm, yet he brought me
some hot soup and black bread after dark; whence obtained, or how
prepared, I have no idea. I was much touched by the man's kindness. All
the soldiers with whom I came in contact were equally kind: and I have
noticed that the men of other armies with whom I have come in contact in
the course of my life, even the Germans, seemed to see something in my
personality which attracted them, and to desire to be friendly. Perhaps
they instinctively realized that I am an admirer of the military man; or
perhaps it was the _bonhomie_ which is universal amongst soldiers.
Certainly I got on well with them all, though some time elapsed before
we could understand a simple sentence spoken on either side.

For two days I was not fit for much: then I went to the front with a
detachment of sixty gunners which had arrived from Petrograd via Warsaw.
I found the battery and the rest of the regiment encamped to the
westward of Przasnysz.

Heavy fighting was going on somewhere in front; but the contending
troops were not in sight. The whole country was full of smoke, and the
smell of burning wood and straw was nearly suffocating. The Germans had
set fire to everything that would burn, including the woods. During the
night heavy showers of rain fell, and these extinguished most of the
fires and saved a vast quantity of timber.

I could see that the Germans had been driven back a considerable
distance; and the Russians claimed to have won great victories in the
neighbourhood of Stshutchen and Graevo, and to have already passed
500,000 men across the German border. That they were making progress was
obvious; and on the 20th August I witnessed some desperate infantry
fighting.

The Germans came on, as they always did, in immense columns, literally
jammed together, so that their men were held under fire an unnecessarily
long time. The usual newspaper phrase, "Falling in heaps," was quite
justifiable in this case. Thousands fell in ten minutes; and the
remainder broke and fled in spite of the efforts of their officers to
stop them. I was well in front and saw what took place. The German
officers struck their men with their swords and in several cases cut
them down; and I saw one of them fire his revolver into the crowd. I did
not actually see men fall, but he must have shot several.

The Russians, too, adopted a much closer formation than was wise, and
suffered severely in consequence, but they never wavered. The Germans
came on again and again, nine times in all, and proved themselves
wonderful troops. Four out of the nine charges they drove home, and
there was some desperate bayonet fighting in which the Teutons proved to
be no match for the Muscovites. The last named used the "weapon of
victory" with terrible effect, disproving all the modern theories about
the impossibility of opposing bodies being able to close, or to come
into repeated action on the same day.

On the contrary, it may be taken as certainly proved that men's nerves
are more steeled than ever they were, and that the same body of men can
make repeated and successive attacks within very short periods of time.
In the above attacks fresh bodies of troops were brought up each time,
but the remnants of the battalions previously used were always driven on
in front. I noticed this: on three occasions the 84th regiment (probably
Landwehr) formed part of the attacking force.

"Driven on" is the correct term. The German officers invariably drove
their men in front of them. Arriving in contact with their foes, the
soldiers fought with fury. It was the preliminary advance that seemed to
discompose them: and, indeed, their losses were dreadful. They
certainly left at least 30,000 dead and wounded on the ground on the
20th. The greater number were dead, because those who lay helpless
received a great part of the fire intended for their retreating
comrades, and thus were riddled through and through.

The Russian artillery played on the masses both when they advanced and
retreated; but the fight was chiefly an infantry one. The full effect of
the guns could not be brought into play without danger of injury to our
own men. In the end the Russians chased the enemy back and the artillery
was advanced to support them. Considerable ground was gained; but four
or five versts to the rear of their first position the Germans were
found to be strongly entrenched. The day's fight was finished by a
charge of a large body of Cossacks and Russian light cavalry. They swept
away the force of German horsemen who ventured to oppose them, and also
drove back several battalions of infantry. That part of the Russian Army
which had been engaged bivouacked on the ground they had fought over.

The cries of the wounded during the night were terrible to hear, and
came from many different points and distances. Hundreds must have died
from want of attention, and hundreds more, on both sides, were murdered.
The Germans, who were hovering about in small parties, persistently
fired on the Red Cross men, so little could be done for the dying; and
the cruelties which were perpetrated, and which were revealed (so I was
told) by the shouts, entreaties and imprecations of the sufferers,
aroused a nasty spirit in the Russians, and particularly in the
Cossacks, and led to fearful reprisals, so that in one part of the field
I know that not a German was left alive. I am bound to add that after I
had seen two Russians brought in with their eyes gouged out, and another
with his nose and ears cropped, and his lacerated tongue lolling from
his mouth, I had not a word of protest to utter against these reprisals.
The Germans were finished fiends, and deserved all they got from a body
of men notorious for their fierceness; and they _did get it_. I will say
this, though: that throughout the campaign no instance of a Russian
injuring a woman or a child came under my notice; nor did I hear of any
such cases. But I was told that three Prussian girls, who were seen to
be on friendly terms with some Russian soldiers, were nearly flogged to
death by their own people; and the horrible treatment the Polish women
received from the hands of the Germans has already been mentioned, and
was ever recurring during the whole of the time I spent with the Russian
Army.

I would here make mention of the quality of the Russian and German
soldiery. Conscription sweeps into the ranks of an army numbers of men
who are totally unfit for a military life and a still further number who
abhor it. In the present war, hatred and vindictive feeling generally
has run very high on the northern side of the fighting area; and this
circumstance seems to have greatly increased the war-like instinct of
the masses, and consequently decreased the number of what I may term
the natural non-combatants. In the Russian ranks, and I believe in the
German also, this class is weeded out as far as possible, and relegated
to the organizations which have least to do with the fighting line--that
is, the administrative services, and troops organized to maintain the
lines of communication. But these fellows--the natural non-combatants,
or haters of the soldier's life, I mean--are, when found in the fighting
ranks, the most detestable scoundrels imaginable; and I believe the
greater part of the atrocities committed may be laid to their charge.
They lose no opportunity of indulging in lust and murder; and as in
civil life they are mostly wastrels, thieves and would-be murderers,
they find in war an opportunity to indulge in those vices which,
practised in time of peace, would bring them to the prison and the
noose. In other words, the scum of the big cities is brought into the
army, and often proves as great a curse to its own administrative, as it
does to that of the enemy. Not all the Germans were fiends--not all the
Russians saints.

Early in the war many of the German regiments were composed of
exceedingly fine-looking men. There was a decided deterioration later
on, but this was more in appearance than quality: they still fought with
determined, or desperate, courage; I am inclined to think, often the
last-named. They were taught that the only way to escape the brutality
of their officers was to face the courage of their foes. They chose the
latter. Often hundreds--whole companies together--rushed over to the
Russians, threw down their arms, and surrendered themselves prisoners of
war. No such instance ever occurred in the Russian ranks. The Russian
soldier is a very pious man, and, like the North Aryan stock from which
he has sprung, is a great worshipper of ancestry and his superiors. His
commanding officer, like his Czar, is a Father, or a Little Father--a
sacred being--his priest as well as his temporal master. The consequence
is that officer and soldier are one, a conjunction that is of great
value from the military standpoint.

This is never the case in the German Army. The Teutonic officer is a
brute and a slave-driver, and his soldiers fear him if they do not hate
him. I doubt if any German soldier ever gets through his training
without being repeatedly struck by all his superiors from the
unter-officer upwards. Feathers show how the wind sets. A Prussian
regiment (the Pomeranian Grenadiers) was route-marching. One of the
musicians blew a false note: the bandmaster immediately turned and
struck the man a stinging blow on the face. I believe the German Army is
the only one in the world where such an incident could occur. Like
master, like man. One brute breeds another.

Taken on the whole the old adage that "one volunteer is worth two
pressed men" is true; but an army of ten or twelve millions could not be
successfully met by one of a million or two. Numbers must count when
they are excessive; though things militate against this rule sometimes.
If an army has not its heart in a contest very inferior numbers may win.
In the present case it soon became clear to me that both the great
nations had their hearts in the war: the surprising thing is that Russia
with her huge hordes has so far done so little--Germany hard pressed on
all sides effected so much.

These words will reveal that I do not take the general view that Russia
is progressing as fast and as well as she might reasonably be expected
to do.[1] Yet I am unable to point out very clearly where her principal
defect lies. She brought up troops very rapidly; and by the 20th August
she had an enormous army in the field on the East Prussian frontier. At
this time, and later on, I learned that her lines extended throughout
the German border and far along that of Austria to the Bug; and she was
said to have at least 5,000,000 men massed in these lines. The Germans
had not nearly so many--probably not more than 2,500,000 or 3,000,000;
but they had the power, by means of their railways, to concentrate on a
given point very rapidly, and so equal, or more than equal, the
Russians, who, being without adequate railway communication, could not
take advantage of their superior numbers. If the last-named saw a
weakness in any part of the German defensive and attempted to take
advantage of it, before they could bring up an adequate number of troops
the Germans had discovered their intentions and rushed up a sufficient
force to secure the threatened point: and this they did by bringing men
from positions so numerous, and so distant, that they nowhere materially
weakened their line; or, if they did so, they were enabled to conceal
the fact.

[1] This paragraph was written four or five months ago.

Europe, Austria and Germany, is surrounded by a ring of armed men,
extending, roughly, a distance of 1,500 miles, and defended by a force
of about 14,000,000 men, or some five men to the linear yard. This is,
in modern war, a sufficient number for effective attack or defence, on
ordinary ground; but it is not too many, and in prolonged operation may
prove to be too few on some descriptions of terre-plein. Yet, after ten
months of the fiercest and most destructive fighting the world has ever
seen, this ring of armed men has not been broken, though persistently
attacked by three of the most powerful military nations on earth.

My estimate of the number of German and Austrian troops actually in the
fighting-line at the beginning of the war is much in excess of the
numbers stated in English newspapers. I note this; but do not think that
14,000,000 is an exaggeration. I have information, and am not merely
guessing. Nor are the losses of the enemy overstated by me.

Down to the present date the losses of the Germans and Austrians amount
to about 3,000,000 men; but it must be remembered that quite two-thirds
of these would be wounded men who would recover, and go back to their
respective fighting-lines; so that the actual number of men permanently
put out of action is about 1,000,000, including those accounted for by
the French, British, and Belgian armies. The losses of the Russians are
nearly 2,000,000 men. Of these the greater part fell in the fighting I
have described and am about to describe, fighting which may be called a
prolonged battle for the possession of Warsaw on the one side and its
defence on the other. The importance of this combat will be recognized
when it is considered that the taking of Warsaw is the first necessary
step towards the occupation of Petrograd.

The vision of one man, especially in war, is limited; and I did not see
everything that took place in the region in which I was. I heard a good
deal, and was ever on the watch to learn and verify, but it could not be
otherwise than impossible to be always sure--always correct; and without
doubt there are many errors in my narration. What I saw, I saw, and this
may be relied on: what I guessed, or was told, I have advanced with
caution. Taken as a whole I think my account of the fighting in Poland
and East Prussia is as reliable as that of any one man can be: and let
it be remembered that I held no official position which could help me in
gaining knowledge.

On the evening of the 20th, and morning of the 21st, many rumors reached
our corps of Russian successes in the neighbourhoods of Gumbinnen and
Suvalki, places which were said to be but little more than 100 versts
from our position. The first-named is an open town in East Prussia
twenty-five versts over the border; and the news gave great joy to our
troops, as it proved that Germany was actually invaded. My informants
of the details were Major Polchow and two or three officers who spoke a
little English and French and were able to make themselves understood to
me.

There was said to have been desperate fighting, with heavy losses, the
capture of many German prisoners, and the complete annihilation of a
whole division of the enemy.

The occupation of Gumbinnen was of great importance because it is on the
Prussian direct line to Vilna, one of the most important railway centres
in this part of Russia and perhaps in the whole empire. Although the
Russians could not maintain their hold of it, its temporary occupation,
no doubt, had an important effect, and possibly helped more than seems
to have been seen in saving Warsaw from the enemy's hands. For had they
succeeded in seizing Vilna, the Russian force in Poland would have been
deprived largely, if not entirely, of reinforcements and supplies in
general. It was one of the peculiarities of the war in Poland and East
Prussia that neither side seemed able to keep an important position for
any length of time. Places were seized which had a telling effect for
the moment, and which one would have thought would have greatly
influenced the fate of the campaign; and yet they were soon retaken or
rendered untenable and the advantages of their seizure lost. In fact the
fighting swayed to and fro. Here to-day, there to-morrow, the battle was
lost or won. It was all a question of railways.

On the 21st the Russians crossed the frontier between Janow and
Chorzellen, and advanced towards Ortelsberg, driving in a force of
Uhlans and smashing a battery.

The next day they were met by a force of Villenberg, which partially
outflanked us. Desperate fighting ensued, the Germans suffering terrible
losses: but they had an object to effect--to hold the Russians until
reinforcements arrived. These were run down rapidly from Koenigsberg and
the Russians outnumbered and forced back. The fight was lost because the
Germans had a network of railways behind them, while the nearest Russian
line was 45 versts away. These facts require no comment. A Russian
railway at Chorzellen would have saved the day, and led to the
investment and probable fall of Koenigsberg. It would have made the
occupancy of Tilsit and Memel permanent, and would almost certainly have
changed the results of the campaign in this region.

As it was, we had to fall back; but we did so fighting stubbornly, and
giving ground very slowly, reinforcements hourly arriving by
march-route. Finally we made a stand at Chorzellen, and the Prussians
tried their usual tactics of repeated attacks in masses. They left
10,000 dead before the town (it is scarcely more than a big village),
and then entrenched themselves at a hamlet called Straffenberg, several
miles in a south-westerly direction towards Unterberg: and then a
terrific artillery duel commenced. I calculated that 30,000 shots an
hour were fired from both armies. The air, the ground, everywhere and
everything, seemed to be alive with bursting shells. The roar of guns
and explosions was incessant and quite drowned the sound of the infantry
firing. Afterwards many men were deaf; I myself could hear no sounds for
two days.

I do not know how many guns were in action, nor the calibre of them. On
our side only field guns were used, and if the Germans had any of larger
size they were, at this time, few in number. Hundreds of machine-guns
were used on both sides, and yet the slaughter was not at all in
proportion to the amount of ammunition expended. As in all battles,
according to my experience, the principal part of the destruction was
due to infantry fire. Of course the loss of life was very great. I can
only say the ground was heaped with dead and dying. At each successive
assault the Germans mounted the heaps of corpses to get at our men and,
falling on their comrades, caused the slain to lie in heaps and ridges
in an extraordinary and dreadful way. The wounded in the underlying
layers must have been suffocated; and the blood ran down the slopes in
streams.

This fearful form of fighting went on from the 22nd to the 28th August
without any intermission, except occasionally a few hours in the
night-time, rarely even then. I, like others, sometimes slept the sleep
of utter exhaustion; but during the wakening hours I do not remember
that the firing ever entirely ceased. Generally the sound of it was a
continuous roar. The heavens were lit up by the reflections of
discharged guns and bursting shells, and the pandemonium was dominated
by a shrieking sound, probably occasioned by the rush of projectiles
through the air. The terrific noise affected my brain so that for weeks
afterwards I was afflicted with a head-noise resembling a loud hissing,
almost intolerable to bear as it interfered with necessary rest.

The front of this terrific battle was very extensive--200 versts I was
told; and the Russians claimed to have had 3,000,000 men in action. At
the same time fighting was going on in Galicia, and there were some
isolated contests, south and west of our position. The fortune of the
contending parties varied greatly; in some places the Prussians were
forced back, in others the Russians. Neither side had a decided victory
in any part of the field, and the ground lost or won never exceeded a
verst or two in extent and was often less than a hundred yards. So it is
proved that close and hand-to-hand fighting are not things of the past,
as many have thought them to be. On the contrary, close fighting is more
often and more extensively resorted to than ever it has been previously,
even in the open field; and I think, more fiercely contested. At any
rate I saw several battalions on each side so nearly destroyed that they
were practically wiped out. A battalion of the 9th West Siberian
regiment on our side, and a territorial battalion of the 59th Prussians
met with such a fate. Not fifty of the Russians nor more than a dozen of
the Germans came out of the scrimmages. They were greatly outnumbered,
and some of those lost were probably taken prisoners; but I can say,
from actual sight of the incidents, that in each case the men fought
with desperate bravery and evinced no desire to surrender.

There was some cavalry fighting too; but, generally, the Russians were
numerically superior to their foes; and the Germans, more often than
otherwise, avoided proffered battle. In a few instances squadrons and
regiments charged one another, the Germans always getting the worst of
it, and in one case at least being much cut up. The Russian cavalry even
attacked infantry, but though they got away without serious loss, it is
pretty evident that only in exceptional instances can cavalry now
successfully contend with modernly armed foot soldiers.




CHAPTER VI

THE CAVALRY FIGHTING BEFORE KOENIGSBERG


The battery to which I had attached myself was destroyed on the 26th. It
was overwhelmed by an opposing fire which nothing could withstand, and
an attempt was made to withdraw it. It was found impossible to limber up
the guns: all the horses were killed, and only five or six of the
drivers left. All the guns, too, were damaged; and Polchow, the
commanding officer, gave the order for the few men left to endeavour to
save themselves. As the words were being spoken a shell burst full on
him, and, riddled by shrapnel bullets, he dropped dead without a
struggle. About 20 men only got away and no horses were saved. My own
was shot the moment I mounted it, and pinned me to the ground by its
weight. I was exposed to the full blast of the German guns for nearly
two hours. Partly shielded by the carcass I escaped injury, though my
clothes were torn to rags by shrapnel bullets. The escape was
miraculous. By-and-by the Germans fell back, after suffering murderous
losses; and I was rescued from my perilous position by some infantry
soldiers of the 70th regiment.

The loss of Polchow was a serious one to me, although I had known him so
short a time, to say nothing of the shock of losing a friend from whose
hands I had received many kindnesses. Other friends, too, were lost in
these terrible fights, but the non-com. Chouraski escaped, though he was
standing near one of our ammunition-carts when it was struck by a shell
and blown up.

After dark a party went out to bring in the bodies of Major Polchow and
two other artillery officers who had lost their lives during the day. It
was raining heavily at the time; but the Germans heard us, and opened a
sniping fire, by which we lost one man killed and another wounded.

We returned the fire, but had nothing to aim at except the occasional
flash of a rifle; so we retired, carrying the bodies of our dead
comrades with us, and buried them in the middle of a small pine-copse,
with rough wooden crosses at the heads of the graves, on which we hung
their caps and accoutrements after the custom prevailing during this
campaign. The Russians always scrupulously revered German graves so
marked: I am sorry to record that the Germans were not so humane, but
hurt the feelings and aroused the ire of us all, men and officers alike,
by their beastly indecencies on the graves of brave men, the very
meanest of whom would have blushed to be so dirty-minded and cowardly.

The battery was ordered to be reformed, men, guns and horses being drawn
from some reserves which, I believe, came via Petrograd; but as I would
not have cared to serve under the officer appointed to command it, I
sought and obtained from a Staff Officer a permit, signed by the Grand
Duke Nicholas, enabling me to go practically where I liked. For a time I
was with the 11th Corps, then with the 5th, and afterwards with several
detachments and corps. It was a fortunate thing that I followed this
course, as it enabled me to see much more and learn more than I could
have done had I remained attached to a small unit.

On the 27th and 28th there was very severe fighting in the direction of
Villenberg, at which I was not present. At least 20,000 prisoners were
brought to the rear, together with a number of horses, guns and waggons.
There can be no doubt but that the Germans received a severe defeat on
these two days and were compelled to retire a great distance in a
disorganized condition.

During these two days enormous reinforcements came up on the Russian
side, including four cavalry divisions. There was great enthusiasm in
our ranks, because news came to hand that the Russians had the Austrian
army in a trap, and we might expect to hear of great things before the
week had run out.

On the 29th I rode with the 5th division of the Cossacks of the Don, and
by midday we had arrived in front of Allenstein, which is a junction of
five or six railway lines and is situated about 70 English miles from
Koenigsberg.

The people flew before us terror-stricken, and a regiment of German
hussars was destroyed. I am afraid there were some atrocities on the
part of the Cossacks. Without defending them I must remark that the
Prussians had set them a very bad example, and they were not slow to
imitate it. Villages were burnt and some civilians slain, and there were
some other lamentable occurrences.

A German brigade of heavy cavalry fell back, and the railway-station
together with a considerable part of the town of Allenstein were
destroyed, partly by fire, partly by being blown up; while the lines
were torn up in every direction; but this does not mean that the
destruction was as great as it would be under similar circumstances in
France or England, for the district is not a country of many culverts
and bridges. The ground is marshy, with numerous pools and lakes of
considerable size, which afforded good shelter to such German troops as
were seen, and enabled them to retire without much loss; in fact there
was scarcely any fighting on this day, and it became evident that they
were waiting for reinforcements before venturing to attack the
overwhelming mass of Russian cavalry, which was the largest body of
horsemen I have ever heard of as acting in one huge corps. Probably they
mustered 40,000 lances and sabres, and they covered the whole country on
a front of quite 100 versts, extending from Allenstein to Goldapp near
Suvalki.

The whole of this region is a swamp with a crescentic line of lakes and
ponds--a difficult country for cavalry to act in; but the Cossacks crept
in everywhere, and fire and lance did some fell work.

In some places there was fighting. On the 30th we came in contact with a
division of Prussian infantry with 60 guns. Our men, consisting of
dismounted Cossacks, dragoons and chasseurs, with 30 horse-artillery and
machine guns, took cover amongst some reeds and scattered farm buildings
and inflicted some loss on the enemy, who did not make a stand but soon
withdrew behind a marshy lake, their guns taking a made road where they
offered a good mark, so that a couple of them were knocked over, horses
and all, though the enemy saved them under cover of darkness.

At night the railway-station at Bischofsburg was destroyed and the line
torn up for a distance of four versts east and west of it; and we
learned that our patrols had demolished the stations at Sensburg,
Rastenburg, Latzen and Nordenburg, and had pulled up many versts of the
line. We ourselves blew up the station at Seeburg, or Seeburg Road as it
might be called, for the town is situated several versts from the
railway. Altogether we seemed to be having a walk-over in this region,
and when news arrived on the 2nd September that the Russians, after a
week's fighting, had crushed the Austrian Army and occupied Lemberg, the
excitement and joy in our division were such as I never before thought
the phlegmatic Muscovites to be capable of, and I began to entertain the
belief that the campaign would be a short one, and that the boast of the
Russians that we should be in Berlin in two or three weeks' time was no
vain one.

On this day our videttes were at Friedland, and we learned that the
Prussians had come out of Koenigsburg in force, and that there had been
severe fighting ending in the enemy retiring to the shelter of their
forts. The Russian commanders, however, do not seem to have thought it
advisable to pursue the foe to within range of their guns. On the 3rd we
approached near enough to be able to see two of the outlying forts of
the great stronghold. Many parties of Germans watched the dozen troopers
composing our advanced guard; but there was no exchange of shots. We
satisfied ourselves that certain dispositions of the enemy were intended
as a lure to attract a considerable body of our troops within
destructive range of their concealed parties. We smelt the trap and
declined to be led into it, but one of our officers, Lieutenant
Pitchchiff, with great temerity rode up to an eminence which gave him a
great command of view and was less than 200 yards from a company of the
enemy. He was not shot at, but a number of mounted men rode towards him,
and to avoid being taken prisoner he had to come away at a hand gallop.
I do not think the information he gleaned was of much importance.

The officer I came most in contact with was Captain Rudovka of the 16th
Dragoons, but acting as intelligence officer to the commander of the 5th
division of Cossacks. His bad English and my worse French enabled us to
understand one another, and his duties, carrying him as they did over a
great deal of ground, made him a very desirable companion. I had
permission also to keep the artilleryman Chouraski with me. He was an
excellent servant.

The Russian officer is usually a splendid fellow; jovial, polite,
generous and frank in a high degree. He is not so well versed in the
history and theory of his profession as the German officer, and not a
patch on his British comrade, who, after all is said and done, is the
finest officer in the world. As to pluck and courage, there is not an
appreciable difference in any of the armies. I witnessed some
magnificent instances of bravery in both Germans and Russians; and truth
to tell, acts of devilish cruelty in both nations--acts which I do not
believe it is possible either French or British officers could commit,
however great the provocation.

There are peculiarities in all peoples; and one of those of the Russians
is the number of females serving in their ranks, many of them as
officers. Indeed, I heard that one lady commanded a regiment of
Cossacks! This seems to me on a par with a General nursing a baby! But I
never was "a lady's man," so perhaps I had better reserve my opinions.
All I say is that I am glad the lady referred to was not the Colonel of
any regiment under the wings of which I fought; and I should imagine
that any "mere male" brought before a court-martial of Amazons would
stand more danger of being spanked than shot.

I saw some of these female soldiers--quite a score in all. There was
nothing particularly romantic in the appearance of any of them. Most of
them had the appearance of big, lanky raw-boned boys; faces oval,
features "puddeny," and complexions pale. One girl, said to be only
eighteen years old, was quite six feet high, with limbs that would fit
a grenadier. I noticed that all those I saw were dark-haired women. They
are said to have been enlisted as men and to have remained in their
regiments some time before their sex was discovered. When this event
took place the woman was allowed to remain in the service. I was a
little curious to know where these ladies lodged, as accommodation is
always limited enough in the tented field. I found that, in the case I
was so rude as to pry into, the girl slept amongst the soldiers, but was
relegated to a tent occupied exclusively by married men. My admiration
was great. The wisdom of the East still reigns in Muscovite brains.
Where else would one find the wisdom of the serpent combined with the
harmlessness of the dove but in a tent full of married men unless,
indeed, it would be in a tent full of married ladies?

The Northern nations are not prudish in the matter of housing the sexes
together. Men and women sleep promiscuously in one compartment in their
cottage, farms, etc.

For some days the centre of fighting was in Austrian Poland and Galicia,
of which we could see nothing. There was also a powerful advance across
the German frontier in the direction of Breslau. More weight was given
to these evolutions than they deserved. For a time the Russian attacks
were irresistible, but the Germans invariably succeeded in stemming
them. The reason lies in a nutshell. The enormous weight of millions
forced the enemy back; but he always retired slowly, doggedly; and when
he had collected a sufficient force made a determined counter-attack
which never failed, because man for man the German is by far the better
fighter. It may be unpleasant to many to hear this; but it is true; and
no man is more sorry than I am that it is so. The German is, generally
speaking, a ferocious brute, but he is possessed of the bestial courage
of a tiger, and, like that fierce animal, has an insatiable taste for
blood. To say that the German Army is an organized band of criminals, a
trained body of thieves and murderers, may seem to be far-fetched and
exaggerated to some persons; but if they had witnessed what I have
witnessed they would not say so.

Young Polish girls were forced to drink until they were helplessly
drunk, and in this dreadful condition were outraged to death. The body
of an aged female (no doubt a matron) was found hanging from a tree by
the feet, disembowelled and trussed as a hog, with this notice pinned to
her, "An old sow left to be salted." A whole company of Prussian
infantry abused one poor woman who died in our camp. In one village
about 150 men and male children, down to the age of nine or ten years,
were burned alive. In another place, a small hamlet near Shiplishki, we
heard the screams of burning people, and afterwards saw the charred
remains of them. These are not isolated instances: they were of everyday
occurrence, but I do not dwell on them for fear of exciting disgust. The
murder and mutilation of the wounded was invariable when the enemy had
time to effect it, and we became to some degree hardened to such
commonplace occurrences.

On the other hand, the Russians retaliated; and I say, what wonder that
they did so? I believe in retaliation. It is a powerful weapon to fight
with. It frightened the Germans and afterwards, to a very marked extent,
put a check on their atrocities. I stood by and saw 10 officers and 100
soldiers hanged; and as I did so I remembered that the first murders I
witnessed in this horrible war were those of Russian subjects by the
Germans at Kalisz; and if by holding up a thumb I could have saved the
life of any one of these 110 scoundrels, I would not have lifted it.
These were all clearly guilty of murder, wounding, torturing, female
abusing, and plundering. Still I must say, with regard to the
Cossacks--they are terrible fellows.

I have mentioned as a peculiarity of the Russian forces the number of
women found in their ranks and welcomed there. The great peculiarities
of the German Army, apart from its fiendish brutality, are the
prevalence of suicide and insanity in it. Some months later than the
time I am writing of, a captured German officer, a Lieutenant, I
believe, of a Landwehr regiment, told me that down to the end of
February, 1915, at least a thousand men had destroyed themselves; and he
mentioned it as a curious fact that hardly any of these miserable
creatures belonged to the artillery branch of the service. The reasons
for destroying themselves were rarely left behind by the victims of this
terrible infatuation. Some of our prisoners destroyed themselves; and I
saw one man shoot himself on the battlefield. But in this latter
instance horror at the sights around him was the probable cause of the
deed.

Insanity is even more frequent amongst German soldiers than suicide. At
the battle of Darkehmen a man, quite naked, foaming and gesticulating
wildly, rushed towards us. The astonishment this excited caused a lull
of the firing at the spot, and he dashed along for 500 yards at a
tremendous speed, leaping and springing like a stag. He made straight
for our ranks, where he was knocked down by a soldier and secured. He
bit very badly several of his captors before being carried to the rear.
I do not know what became of him; but hundreds of our prisoners were
raving when captured.




CHAPTER VII

THE FIRST INVASION OF EAST PRUSSIA, AND THE RETREAT


By the 4th or 5th September it was pretty generally known, in that part
of the Russian Army where I was, that something was going wrong with us.
Great masses of infantry and artillery were formed eastward, behind, and
on the right flank of the cavalry; and yet we made no further advance or
progress in any direction. Some thought that our commanders were afraid
of the garrison of the Koenigsberg forts, which was believed to number
150,000 men. I, and others engaged on outpost and scouting work, knew
that German reinforcements were coming up rapidly, and that a large army
was collecting on the Vistula between Marienburg and Thorn. These
reinforcements, we knew, were coming from Belgium and the Western
theatre of war, and also from the interior of Germany.

On our side reinforcements were coming up in great numbers; but at this
period the chief fighting was on the Austrian-Russian frontier; and
daily, and often almost hourly, news came to hand of the great victories
which were being gained. It was asserted that in one day as many as
130,000 Austrian and Prussian prisoners were taken. The truth of these
reports I had no means of ascertaining: nor of the many other rumours
of the crushing victories of the Allies in the West, where the Germans
were said to be retreating on all parts, and in many places, in
disorderly rout. Now, eight months later, are they retreating at any
point? Evidently mistakes were made; and it was not realized that the
enemy was preparing a ring of defences which it would take many months
to force. It was also said that the Germans were beginning to run short
of ammunition. We soon had painful evidence that the Germans were short
of nothing.

On the evening of the 5th September, they trapped one of our cavalry
regiments and destroyed it, together with the greater part of a squadron
of dragoons. Many of the men, including all the wounded, were taken
prisoners.

On the 6th the enemy began to advance in force. The fighting consisted
mostly of artillery duels at long ranges. While we were watching the
action of some guns posted about two English miles away, a shell smashed
to atoms the head and shoulders of an officer in the midst of our group,
and we were splashed all over with his blood and brains--not a pleasant
experience. The man must have been killed instantly, yet his hands and
feet continued to twitch for some minutes after he was struck. It is
remarkable that only one man was hurt, as we were standing close
together under some trees, where we felt sure we were quite safe.

On the same day we began to retire, but slowly, and with much stubborn
fighting. Nearly all the cavalry was drawn back from the front, and
much of it must have been sent right away, as I never saw it again. The
5th Cossack division, however, remained; and for a long time was engaged
in covering a portion of the 11th Army Corps.

[Illustration: RUSSIAN COSSACKS ON THE GERMAN FRONTIER]

On the 7th the artillery fight continued without apparently decisive
results on either side, though our retreat continued, as it did on the
8th when the bulk of the Cossacks (about 1,500 men) were at Deutsch
Eylau, with orders to fall back on Soldau, a town seventy or eighty
versts east of Thorn. There followed a number of movements which I did
not understand, and about which I could glean no information. My
difficulties were so great that it was not until this day that I learned
we were under the direct command of General Rennenkampf, whom I had only
seen on one occasion, and then had scarcely more than a glimpse of him.

The little I learned with certainty showed that the Russians were
obtaining great and important victories over the Austrians, with whom
were combined a considerable force of Germans, and that the Prussians
were becoming exceedingly nervous about their progress. In consequence,
they withdrew a great many units from our front; and the Russians, too,
sent a great force to the south, including, I suspect, most of the
cavalry that had suddenly departed. Both sides, also, but the Germans
principally, began to form extensive systems of entrenchments; and two
new devices came into use in modern warfare--viz., hand-grenades and
armour breastplates.

The grenades were peculiar things, not at all resembling the weapons
which gave our Grenadiers their name; of a kind of elongated pear-shape,
these were iron cases divided into segments, and attached to a stick
which fitted the barrel of a rifle and enabled them to be shot, at an
acute angle, into trenches. They were, also, thrown by hand, and were
nasty viperish things, often doing a great deal of damage.

The shields were a kind of iron breastplate, roughly made, and held in
the hand by means of metal handles; so that the men had to drop them
when they fired their rifles, or used their bayonets: but afterwards
they were attached to the body by means of straps. Except at short range
they were bullet-proof. The method of use was for the front rank in a
mass of close columns to hold them up, protecting themselves and
comrades until they closed with the foe, when they were thrown down that
their bearers might use the bayonet. Hundreds of them were taken by the
Russians; but the contrivance was too clumsy, and was soon abandoned by
both sides. Before the men could drop them and unsling their rifles they
were heaps of corpses. The grenades, however, held their own, and were
much used in trench warfare.

There was frequent and much rain at this time; which was a great
inconvenience, and caused the ground to become in a very bad state for
the passage of cavalry and artillery, not to mention the misery of
bivouacking in drenching showers. The weather was often very hot; but
there was a singular absence of disease amongst our troops, though one
got to know that typhus and other fevers were appearing amongst the
enemy's troops, though not spreading to any extent; and probably no
campaign on a large scale was ever conducted with less loss to the
troops from disease.

Much of the scene of the operations I have been describing was very
beautiful country, studded with homesteads and farms that, in normal
times, must have been quiet and peaceful places, occupied by well-to-do
yeomanry and peasantry, living happy and contented lives. Orchards were
numerous, but the fruit had entirely disappeared, either prematurely
removed by its owners to make what they could of it, or plundered by the
passing troops. Frequently we rode by cornfields that had been burned;
and potato-fields had been dug up and wasted, thousands of potatoes the
size of marbles lying on the ground. Our raiders got hold of many fowls
and pigs; and for a week or two pork was always to be had at two or
three meals per day.

Most of the people had fled from this country; those that remained
seemed to fear their own countrymen as much as they did our Cossacks,
and remained in hiding while we were passing. Generally speaking they
were not ill-used when our men discovered them; but scant respect was
shown to the rights of womanhood by the Germans themselves, who had
become brutal. No doubt many of the German officers made great efforts
to maintain order; but the license of war is notorious, and many
opportunities for wrong-doing must necessarily arise in countries under
its influence.

Houses and whole villages were wrecked and burned. We were constantly
passing through smouldering ruins, and at night the land resembled our
"Black Country" for blazing fires, and reflections of fires. We saw
bodies of civilians who appeared to have been executed by shooting; and
in one wrecked and smoke-blackened street, a couple of our own Cossacks,
and another Russian soldier, were seen hanging to lamp-posts--probably
marauders who had wandered away from their ranks, and fallen amongst the
Philistines--a fate such people often meet.

Acting on orders, the cavalry spread out into a vast screen, covering
the movements of the infantry, and gradually fell back before the enemy.
The movement was described as being strategical, for the purpose of
drawing the Germans into a favourable position for attack; but this
assertion was probably made to keep up the spirits of our troops.

The enemy fired at us a good deal; but as they could not bring their
guns to bear on a group of men, very little execution was done. There
were some charges between small parties, always much less than a
squadron in strength: and in all these that I saw or heard of the
Germans got the worst of the fight; and besides those cut down, in three
or four days, our men captured more than 200 prisoners, half a dozen of
whom were officers. I believe that the Germans claimed to have captured
some of our soldiers, but I much doubt if they secured as many as a
score.

The Cossack has a strong disinclination to be taken prisoner; and I knew
of several of them sacrificing their lives rather than fall into the
hands of the Germans, who heartily detest these men, and usually
murdered such as they succeeded in catching--and murdered them after
preliminary tortures, according to reports which reached us. The country
people certainly showed no mercy to stragglers falling into their hands.
They usually pitch-forked them to death; and this lethal weapon was a
favourite with the ladies on both sides of the border, many a fine
Teuton meeting his end by thrusts from this implement. For in some of
the fights the peasantry, including women of all ages, took part, and
showed that farm instruments are as deadly as any kind of "arme
blanche." ("Arme blanche" is the term used by military scientists to
include bayonets, lances and swords of all descriptions. Perhaps the
nearest English equivalent is "cold steel.")

Riding through a burnt village near Neidenburg, half a sotnia of our
fellows fell into a Prussian trap and had a third of their saddles
emptied in a few seconds. The survivors were equal to the occasion;
and charged so vigorously that they completely routed their
opponents--about 100 of a reservist corps with the figures 239 on their
shoulder-straps.[2] Two of these men were impaled on the same Cossack
lance, an almost incredible circumstance. The Cossacks are in the habit
of lowering their lances as they charge without removing them from the
buckets. Holding them loosely by the lanyards they kick them into their
enemies with such irresistible force, aided by the speed of the charging
horse, that to parry the weapons is impossible. In the case mentioned,
the men must have been standing one close behind the other, and the
lance was driven right through bodies, packs and all. It was some time
before one of the men died: in fact, not before the Cossack drew his
sword and finished him off by a sabre cut. The soldier could not
withdraw his lance, so firmly was it embedded in the bodies, a
circumstance which much aroused his ire, for all Cossacks are much
attached to their weapons.

[2] 239 Reserve are said to have been in Flanders. There may be various
explanations; but it is certain that this small party of men wore the
number 239.

Having crossed the border, we fell back in the direction of Przasnysz,
hearing that Soldau was evacuated; but I did not myself enter that town.
We found that a long line of trenches had been made stretching towards
Lomza and said to be extended quite up to that place. The lines were
full of infantry; and redoubts were constructed at intervals in which
heavy siege artillery was placed; an encouraging sight, as it seemed
certain that these defences must effectually check the Germans.

We were not long left to ponder over the possible effects of an assault
on our position. On the 14th the Germans opened fire with their
field-guns, and at daybreak made a violent assault in their usual close
formation. The result was horrible. Whole sections of them were blown
away, the air being filled with showers of human fragments, dismembered
by the big shells from the siege guns. At the same time they were
subjected to a withering rifle fire and they soon broke and fled,
suffering terribly as they rushed madly away.

Perhaps the heavy guns were a surprise to them. They generally made
repeated assaults, often as many as seven or eight in quick succession;
but on this occasion they were fairly frightened: they even suspended
their artillery shooting until late in the afternoon, and made no
demonstration against the parties which went out from our lines to
examine the battlefield.

Of all the awful sights I had seen, or saw afterwards, none exceeded
this. The enemy could not reach the guns, on account of the skilful way
in which they were placed well in the rear, and protected by strong
cross-fire; but they had succeeded by superhuman bravery in forcing the
first line trenches. They held none of their gains longer than five
minutes, at most; but in that time lost so heavily that the pits were
filled with corpses flush with the ground outside of them. In some spots
the dead and the dying were lying in heaps eight or nine deep. The
shells which had been used appeared to weigh from 150 to 200 pounds
(English weight) each; and hundreds of bodies were rent to pieces. Arms,
heads, legs, entrails, pieces of flesh, were lying about in all
directions; and the proportion of dead to injured was very high--more
so, I think, than in any other action that had taken place, though in
some instances nearly all the casualties were caused by artillery fire.

We brought in about 7,000 wounded; and I calculated that at least 12,000
dead were left lying on the field. The Germans sent a flag of truce
asking for permission to bury their dead. A reply was sent that we would
do that job for them. But no attempt was made to bury the enemy's dead
until the 16th. There was rain in the interval, followed by a hot
morning: not more than half the bodies were disposed of until the 17th,
and by that time the stench from the field was sickening.

During this interval there was no firing worth mentioning. The Germans
were slyly waiting for their heavy guns to come up. However, on the
night of the 17th they made an attempt to surprise us, but went home
with a flea in their ear, leaving another 1,000 men behind them. At this
time so many men had been withdrawn to the Austrian front, that,
imitating the example of the British and French in the West, our cavalry
were dismounted and fighting in the trenches. So I had full opportunity
of seeing what was going on and taking a part in the operations. Often I
wished that I could move about even more freely than I contrived to do.
For the sounds of heavy firing miles away showed that our little hamlet
was not the only centre of a fierce fight. The name of this hamlet,
situated about twenty versts to the east of Przasnysz, by-the-by I never
heard. It had endured the horror of a visit from the Germans, and was a
heap of blackened ruins. It had occupied a slight eminence, and a
battery was now placed in front of it. Further back were some
gravel-pits and a scarped bank, where the Cossacks picketed their
horses, and a reserve of ammunition was kept, though it was not
altogether safe from the enemy's shells.

All through the 18th there was very heavy artillery firing, in which the
Germans got much the worst of it, as their guns were light; but on the
19th they had some heavy pieces in position which did us some damage,
blowing in many yards of trenches, and destroying hundreds of men. We
had, however, no experience of the terrible "Jack Johnsons," nor had we,
so far, heard of those monstrous pieces of artillery.

General Jowmetstri, our immediate commander, did not care to sit still
and endure this galling fire, which our guns were unable to subdue; and
on the evening of the 20th he ordered a general advance with the
bayonet. The Germans did not seem to be prepared for this, if they were
not actually taken by surprise. Our charge was a very fierce one and the
enemy was driven out of his trenches, and a large working-party which
was busy cutting parallel lines of defence was annihilated. The enemy's
troops at this point were evidently of inferior quality. Many of them
threw down their arms, and some begged piteously for mercy. Their
officers were furious, and cut and stabbed at their soldiers, as well as
fired their revolvers at them. I saw one fellow throw his arms round his
officer and literally howl for mercy, while the man of authority swore
and struggled to free his sword arm. Both men were taken prisoners. The
whole force was swept from its defences and compelled to retreat,
closely followed by our men. A sharp rifle-fire was kept up all night.

About ten o'clock in the morning the enemy joined a fresh force, and we
were compelled to halt. We could hear that very heavy fighting was
taking place to the right of our position, some of the sounds of
artillery firing being distant, in the opinion of experienced soldiers,
at least thirty versts; and the front of the battle must have extended a
much greater distance than that.

I was much perturbed about my horse, and those of the Cossacks with me,
numbering about fifty men, all that was left of the sotnia (or
squadron). I had not seen Rudovka for three days; and, in fact, never
saw him again, nor did I meet with anybody of whom I could make
inquiries concerning him. Chouraski was still with me; but communication
between us was chiefly by means of signs, though I was beginning to pick
up the names of a few things in Russian; and Chouraski knew what I meant
when I asked for "bread" (biscuit), "cheese," "water," "wash," "dress,"
etc.

Some of the articles indicated by these words were very different from
what an Englishman would expect them to be. Bread was a species of "hard
tack" compared with which dog-biscuits are fancy food: cheese was a
wretched soft mess resembling wet putty, sour and peculiarly flavoured.
Meat was plentiful and good, especially German pork, and fowls, many of
which were large and fleshy.

The fifty Cossacks had no officer left and only one corporal, and they
looked to me for guidance. Assisted by Chouraski I contrived to lead
them very well for five days, when they were taken charge of by a Staff
Officer, and, I suppose, sent back to their regiment. Whether they
regained their horses, or what became of mine, I never heard. I say
"mine"; but really I do not know to whom the animal, or the one
previously killed under me, belonged. Both had been found for me, no
explanations being asked for or given. I was lost without a horse, but
had no money to buy one. At this time all the cash in my possession was
L20 in English sovereigns, and I had nobody to whom I could apply for
more. I wrote several letters to friends at home; but none of these
reached their destination; nor did I receive a line from anyone during
the whole time I was with the Russian Army.

Campaigning is rough work. I had come into the country with a small
gladstone bag only; and now I wanted many things badly, including boots
in particular. But just now I had fighting to attend to, and that under
strange circumstances because, like George Washington, I seem to suffer
from a natural inability to become a linguist. Most of the Russian
officers are good French scholars; and I found the most facile way of
communicating with them was to pencil down in French what I wished to
say. "How was I to get a horse?" "Take one from the Deutschman," came
the ready reply. I resolved I would if I could. Boots and shirts were
another matter, and these were generously given me, together with an
officer's uniform of the 80th regiment.

The swaying backwards and forwards of the battle, so to speak, seemed to
be occasioned by the necessity the Germans were under to rush their
troops about to save the many threatened positions. They strove, often
with success, to pin the Russian troops to one spot while they sent
reinforcements to help their friends the Austrians. Their Allies set
right, back came the relieving force, and a fresh attack was made on the
Russians, too often with success, or partial success. I have already
repeatedly said that it was their splendid system of railways that
enabled the Germans to effect these rapid and confusing movements.

That the railways were the means by which they obtained their victories
was proved by a curious fact. When the Russians were beaten back so far
that the Germans could not command their railed lines of communication,
and were thus placed on an equality with the Russians, they began to
lose ground, and Russians to gain it. This accounts for the "swaying
backwards and forwards" of the contending forces to which I have several
times alluded.

In the present fight, however, I think they had a narrow escape of a
serious disaster, and I was disappointed that the Russians did not
evince more dash and push their enemies back on Berlin. They proved to
be not strong enough to do this; nor do I think they will succeed in so
doing, until the British and French make a decided turn in the Western
campaign. It is in the West that the fate of the German Empire will be
decided.

Germany too is full of strong fortresses; and the Russians have been
unable to threaten seriously any of these, and are, I feel sure,
incapable of taking any of them. They lack the necessary artillery, for
one thing; and I was never greatly impressed by the engineering skill of
their sappers. The Germans are masters in this branch of the service;
and that is a circumstance which is sure to tell both in field-works and
in fortress warfare.

That there was much anxiety amongst the commanders of both armies at the
end of September was betrayed by the movements of the troops, and the
disinclination which was shown by both Russians and Germans to take a
bold initiative before the arrival of strong reinforcements. There was
firing every day, it is true, and sometimes heavy firing; but no
attempts at those vigorous attacks in masses of columns which were so
expensive in life; and, I might add, so ineffectual that it is amazing
the Germans persisted in making them.

Attempts may have been made to conceal the arrival of reinforcements:
they were not successful. We learned of every battery and battalion that
arrived in the German line: and their prisoners, of whom we daily
captured hundreds, could tell us all about the fresh arrivals in our
camp. Something was learned through scouts and patrols; but there must
have been numerous spies in both camps. None of them were discovered to
my knowledge; but the Germans were continually hanging or shooting
suspected persons. The slightest suspicion of a stranger in their lines
was sufficient to insure his destruction. They shot first and inquired
afterwards, if they inquired at all.

Almost simultaneously it was announced in our camp that the Czar was
coming to command us in person, and the Kaiser to place himself at the
head of the enemy. The Germans were evidently most anxious to drive back
our armies, in order to have the greater part of their force at liberty
to deal with the French and British in the West: their prisoners
admitted this, and were not at all reticent concerning details, often
giving information which showed them to be little better than traitors
to their country. The Saxons, particularly, were communicative, and many
of them openly expressed their disgust at the war and the cruelties
perpetrated by the Prussians, who, with the Bavarians and Wuertembergers,
were undoubtedly the cruellest men amongst our foes, as they are the
most brutal amongst themselves. The roughs from Wurzburg,
Frankfort-on-the-Rhine, Berlin, and Hanover, were notorious for
wickedness, even in their own ranks; and prisoners from the other States
would often refuse to associate with them.

I moved about very freely amongst the German prisoners at the request of
several of the Russian commanders, for the purpose of gleaning
information. While at least 40 or 50 per cent. of the German officers
could speak French and English fluently, hardly any of the Russians had
a knowledge of the latter language, though they ware nearly always good
French scholars. On the other hand, German officers rarely understand
Russian. The German rank and file contained hundreds of men who spoke
English almost like natives of Britain; and no big batch of prisoners
came under my notice which did not contain men who had resided in our
Islands. Their officers were more reticent than the men; hence the use I
could be to the Russian authorities; and though spying is not to my
taste, I acted willingly enough on these occasions for what, I hope, are
very obvious reasons. I have been told by some pious people that the
meaning of the present universal imbroglio is that the end of the world
is imminent. I am convinced that it would soon be so if the wretched
Tyrant of Prussia won the day: and to prevent such a catastrophe I would
willingly stoop to meaner work than spying.

Sometimes the prisoners mistook me for a German; and I did not always
undeceive them. Many of them were miserably ignorant creatures; and I
formed the opinion that State interference with the education of either
the Classes or the Masses is not such a benefit to the people of a
country as many meddlesome faddists would like us to believe. Probably
there are very few Germans who cannot read and write; but these are
qualifications which may be much perverted if they are not "founded upon
a rock."

A great many of the prisoners taken by the Russians were men who would
better be described as deserters than prisoners. Lots of them hated the
military service, and had taken the earliest opportunity to run away
from it--into the arms of their enemies. "I have a wife and six children
in Magdeburg. If I'm killed who will look after them?" said one man.
Another fellow remarked: "I was married about three months before I was
called to the colours. I don't want my wife to be grabbed up by somebody
else." These, and other remarks, show that all the people in Germany are
not patriots. A soldier of the 54th regiment declared himself to be a
Socialist, and said he did not like killing his fellow-men. Another
declared that the only men he wished to kill were his officer and his
sergeant-major, who had been cruel to him; and he added: "I came away to
save myself from being killed by them." A large number of Jews
surrendered because they would not fight against their fellow Jews, who,
they had heard, were enlisting in large numbers in the French and
English armies.

The loss of men of these descriptions would not weaken the German Army;
but many thousands of the genuine prisoners were inveterate in their
hatred of Britain and everything British; and, strange as it seems,
these were the men from whom I gained the most useful information. They
were boastful and threatening: "Our Kaiser will be in your dirty country
on such and such a day; and then you'll catch it!" "Nonsense," I would
reply; "he hasn't got men enough to fight on this front, and invade
England as well." "Oh yes, he has. All our best troops have gone to
crush the English. Any men are good enough to defeat these red-snouted
pigs. The Guard Corps has gone to destroy your Guards;" and then the
fellow would go on to say where the various German corps were stationed,
which was valuable information. In this way I first learned that the
English Guards were in France; and many important details of the
fighting there--details which it was troublesome to verify, but I did
verify them: and so various and important was the information I gathered
that I was, for a time, much employed in this work by the Russian staff.

Much that I learned was at variance with what I afterwards read in
English newspapers. Evidently Germany was not so short of foodstuffs and
munitions of war as newspaper-men and politicians often fondly imagined
they were. I obtained clear proof that, in the early stages of the war,
and as late as February or March, both food and copper were sent in
large quantities by neutrals through neutrals, and also metals and
munitions. The Americans, I firmly believe, were generally antagonistic
to Germany and her policy; but there is in the United States a very
large body of people of Teutonic birth or descent, many of whom are rich
and influential tradesmen, and no effectual steps were taken to prevent
these persons from supplying their compatriots on the European Continent
with stores of goods of every description. They even did so on credit
and under promise of rich reward when that golden apple, Albion, had
dropped into the Kaiser's maw. Items of interest which I gained from
German prisoners were very numerous, and of intense interest. I heard
much about the brutal treatment of our prisoners, and the destruction of
our towns by airships; information which, I know, required to be
accepted with caution; but I verified it by cross-questioning and other
means, to the extent of learning certainly that places on our island had
been wrecked by aeroplanes, and many lives lost. The circumstantial
details given were too clear to leave a doubt on one's mind. Most of
those from whom I gathered information were men who had resided in
England.

Concerning the food-supply of our enemies, I learned what steps they
were taking to husband their stores, and I am satisfied that with what
they have got, and what is still leaking into their country, they can
probably hold out for two years at least. If they are beaten sooner it
must be by force of arms, not by starvation, though this will be their
ultimate fate if the war is much prolonged; for Germany is not
self-supporting, and as her troops are driven back, the area from which
she can draw supplies will be rapidly curtailed.




CHAPTER VIII

THE KAISER NOT A SUCCESSFUL GENERAL


The movements of the German troops were amazing. Some of the men we took
prisoners had been rushed up from Belgium, back again, sent into
Austria, and brought back to East Prussia; and all this in less than two
months. I mean that the entire corps, or divisions, to which these men
had belonged had been so shifted about. The Prussian Guards were smashed
up at Ypres by our splendid "British Grenadiers" (we soon learned this),
and then came and faced us, when they did not fare much better. Probably
it was the recruits who replaced the first lot who came to make the
acquaintance of the Russian bayonets. As to their Kaiser, he was
reported to be in a dozen places at one and the same time. He was
certainly at Soldau, or in its neighbourhood, during the last week of
September; but I did not learn the exact date of his arrival in the
East. Like most exalted potentates of his stamp--compounds of arrogance
and blasphemy--he seemed to have some fears for his personal safety, and
to be endeavouring to secure it by shrouding his movements in a certain
amount of mystery. By the shouting and hymn-singing, we knew he was at
Soldau on the 24th; but on the 27th we received definite information
that he was at Suvalki, which is thirteen versts over the German border
and in Russian territory. This was also the first intimation we had that
our forces had evacuated the Spirding See, the Lake region; and it was
not received as pleasant news, though anger rather than depression was
the prevailing passion amongst us. Reports, confirmed by the admission
of prisoners, stated that a quarter of a million men had been quietly
collected at Koenigsberg and were now being rapidly drafted into Poland.
Though the Kaiser was said to be in personal command of the new army, a
General von Hindenburg was mentioned as being the real director of its
movements. This was the first time we had heard of him.

At this period one of the gravest of Russia's mistakes was, in my
opinion, an undue attention to the Austrian section of the big
battle--for the fight really raged along the entire eastern and northern
frontiers of Germany and Austria. Troops were massed in front of the
Jaroslav-Lemberg line, who could have been more usefully employed in
forcing back the invaders in East Poland. But Russia has had her eyes on
Galicia for years, and, like a dog with a bone, has instincts for
nothing but her prey. She and her friends thought her huge masses would
swamp everything that attempted to oppose them. This has proved to be a
mistaken opinion, just as Germany's idea that rushed masses would carry
everything before them has turned out to be an error. In modern war huge
masses mean appalling death lists and vast numbers of prisoners. An army
such as even Napoleon hardly ever saw is now imprisoned in Russia; and
another, scarcely inferior to it in numbers, is interned in Germany. Men
deployed may fall back and escape; a mass of columns under direct
artillery fire must surrender or be annihilated. This is the reason that
troops have been captured in bodies of thousands on both sides. It is
also the chief reason that the slaughter has been so excessive.

On the night of the 28th, at about 10.30, we were aroused and paraded. I
was excessively tired at the time, hardly able to keep my eyes open, and
was under the impression that fighting was about to take place in our
immediate neighbourhood; but after standing in a drenching rain for
about half an hour we were marched off--I could not tell where or in
what direction.

The night was dark, the rain falling in torrents, and the ground a
quagmire; but the men marched quickly and in perfect silence. They were
not permitted to smoke, an indulgence which was usual on marches.

I marched with an East Russian regiment from Perm, which had already
seen such hard service that it was reduced in strength from 4,000 to
less than 2,000 men. There were other regiments in the division which
had suffered even more severely. The men were cheerful, recent accounts
of great victories on the Austrian frontier having much raised their
spirits.

We plodded on till eight o'clock the next morning, when we were halted,
and each man, including officers, was handed a mug of coffee and two
large biscuits, commissariat carts passing down the ranks for this
purpose. It was still raining. During the night we had passed through
two towns and two villages, but I had no idea where we then were. After
waiting two hours till about 10 a.m., we resumed our march, and after
proceeding four or five versts arrived at Ostrolenka railway-station.
Troops were leaving this place by train, and we were placed in carriages
about noon, and departed eastward. I shared a compartment with six
officers and was able to hold a little communication with them. Their
opinion was that we were going to Grodno, about 150 versts from
Ostrolenka. After smoking a cigar or two they all went to sleep and
within a few minutes I had followed their example, and was so dog-tired
that I did not awake until I was aroused at Grodno, where we arrived at
six o'clock in the evening. The sound of heavy artillery firing was
heard as we stood on the platform; but no information could be gleaned
about what was going on, and in a short time we were placed in another
train and sent off in the direction of Suvalki, the capital town of a
province of the same name. At ten o'clock we were detrained on the line
near to a large sheet of water, probably at Otschauka.

A big battle was going on some eight or ten versts away. We could hear a
tremendous sound of firing, and could see the red reflection in the sky
for many miles on either hand. Without delay we were marched towards
this scene of conflict, and at once began to meet long lines of wounded
men and prisoners. The Germans were reported to be getting the worst of
the fight, but the Russians stood in need of reinforcements.

We hurried on, the men marching at a very quick step, but often
floundering through slush and mud. The ground was very soft and marshy,
and full of ponds and streams with steep banks. Troops were in front of
us, and others behind; and judging from a spluttering rifle-fire, I
thought our flank was being protected by a cavalry skirmishing line. It
was the first serious night-fight in which I had been engaged. As we
advanced it became more and more evident that it was a battle of an
extensive and desperate description; and enough could be seen to show
that its front extended at least twenty versts, and probably much more.

At length we were halted and deployed into line; and I thought other
infantry regiments were coming up on both flanks; but the night was too
dark to enable one to make sure of much. While we were thus engaged a
cavalry regiment rode into us--it cannot be said that it charged--and I
have always been of opinion that they made a mistake of some kind. Half
of them were killed, the rest surrendered; and I tried to gain
possession of one of their horses, as I had been recommended to do. I
was disappointed. Some unmannerly rascal took it from me just as I was
trying to get into the saddle, and time and circumstances made an
argument both difficult and dangerous.

We were within long range of artillery fire, and stray shells burst
over our heads and fell amongst our ranks; and an order was passed that
we were to lie down. The ground was sodden, and most of us were very
damp if not wet through; but there we lay for two hours until about 1.30
a.m., when we were suddenly ordered to advance.

We had not gone 1,000 yards when there was some wild shooting in front
of us, and to my astonishment I found that we were close upon the enemy.
It must have been a surprise to them, or they would never have permitted
us to close without riddling us with rifle and cannon shot according to
their usual tactics; and either desperation lent them energy, or they
were getting used to the handling of their weapons, for I never saw a
fiercer bayonet fight on the part of the Germans. They burnt flares, or
a similar contrivance, which threw a lurid light over the fiercely
struggling mass of human furies, and benefited us as much as it did
themselves; and that was a good thing, for otherwise it would have been
almost impossible to distinguish friend from foe, and accidents must
have been of frequent occurrence.

The enemy appeared to have made some shallow rifle trenches, but many of
them fought on open, flat ground; and their losses were terrible. The
fight lasted, furiously, desperately, for about a quarter of an hour;
then the Germans gave way and ran for their lives, closely followed by
their foes. As they ran they unbuckled their knapsacks and let them fall
to the ground. Many fell on their knees and held their hands up, not
always with success in obtaining mercy, though hundreds of prisoners
were taken and secured by the reserves which were following us in
support. Some threw themselves flat on the ground and thus often escaped
immediate death.

The officers on both sides lost control of their men. I could hear the
Germans shouting and threatening and saw some of them throw themselves
before the soldiers in a vain attempt to stop the headlong flight; while
our men were so excited that the commands of their officers were quite
ignored--a very unusual thing amongst Russian soldiers, whose reverence
for their commanders resembles that of saints for their priests.

I believe the Germans suffered something from their own artillery fire,
their shells bursting amongst friends and foes alike. One fell close in
front of me and the explosion made me shiver; but though it killed at
least half a dozen men I escaped without so much as a scratch, though I
afterwards found my clothes torn by projectiles of some kind.

The pursuit went on for hours. When daylight broke it had not diminished
in vigour, and, the country being an open marsh, the enemy, deprived of
the trenches in which they love to fight, could find no point of support
and were kept on the run. Many of them, far too heavily accoutred, fell
from exhaustion, and soon they began to surrender in squads and
companies.

Cavalry on our left front made a demonstration, but the ground was so
rotten that they could not charge; and we soon began to come up with
guns embedded in the mud. Gunners and horses were bayoneted, and the
guns afterwards fell into our hands. I was told that hundreds were
taken; certainly whole batteries were left behind, the majority of the
horses having been worked to death in an endeavour to drag them away. I
saw them lying dead harnessed to guns and waggons. Some were still
dying, groaning pitifully, and not a few were put out of their misery by
men whom the fiercest passion could not deprive of some sense of
compassion for innocent suffering. I came upon a German gunner engaged
in this praiseworthy work, and gave him a friendly nod. He returned the
nod with equal friendliness before hopping after his comrades with a
couple of pounds of mud clinging to each boot. Ah! war is a sad, sad
business. It must be bred of the devil: for one would rather lose his
soul than fail to sabre or stab the foe in front of him; and yet when
the fierce rage of the fight is over, one would give the whole world not
to have done such a thing.

The Prussians must have had reserves in the field, but we saw nothing of
them. Either they were dealt with by other bodies of our troops, or,
seeing that the day was lost, took the hint and did not wait. Our men
kept up the pursuit until nearly noon the next morning, when the
majority of them were so exhausted that they threw themselves on the
ground and slept where they lay, with the rain pelting down upon them.

This action was known to the Russians as the "Battle of Suvalki," and
was the nearest approach to an old-fashioned fight that had taken
place. It was a tremendous affair, fought on a front of nearly thirty
English miles; and was a complete, unqualified German defeat. They lost
about 30,000 killed and wounded, and nearly as many more taken
prisoners. The Kaiser was in personal command throughout the action; and
is responsible for the precious mess made of it. About 300 field-guns
were captured, but some of them were so firmly embedded in the mud that
they could not be dragged off, horses being scarce. According to my
estimate at least 8,000 of these poor beasts perished in the fight.
There is no exaggeration in these estimations. One column of prisoners
alone which I passed on its way to the interior of Russia was five miles
long, the men marching without a break, in double file, or six abreast,
according to German formation. (The German file is usually three men
deep, and not two, as it is in most other European armies.)

Both sides were thoroughly exhausted by this tremendous struggle; and
there was no fighting on the latter part of the 1st and the whole of the
2nd of October; at any rate by the troops which had been engaged in the
main battle. On the 3rd we resumed our advance into Prussia, but late in
the afternoon were ordered to halt, and the remainder of the day was
spent in taking up an alignment facing due north towards Tilsit. The
object of this movement was not clear to me; but there can be no doubt
that our position was sometimes almost critical. The force which fought
the Battle of Suvalki was outflanked both to the north and to the
south, and had we suffered defeat the disaster would have been a
terrible one. The Russians had not only a huge marsh in their rear, but
also a large and deep river (the Niemen), and what that might have meant
may be gathered from the fearful losses of the Germans when they were
forced, as a part of the movement I have been describing, over it to the
north of Suvalki. Not much about this disaster seems to have leaked out
as yet, but it cost the Germans at least another 20,000 men, nearly all
of whom perished by drowning; in fact, the passage of the Niemen is
second only, as a military _debacle_, to that of the Beresina in
Napoleon's days. Eye-witnesses, whose veracity cannot be questioned,
amongst them being General Rennenkampf, asserted that whole companies,
and batteries of artillery, were swept away, the heavy rains having
greatly increased the current of the river. Heavy siege guns, destined
for the bombardment of Warsaw, were lost; and several of the bridges
constructed by the German engineers collapsed under the excessive weight
forced upon them; while two of these structures were demolished by the
Russian shell fire, being crowded with men at the time. In fact,
whatever the outcome of the campaign, the Germans will never forget the
dressing they got at the passage of the Niemen below Tilsit.

The effect of the battle of Suvalki was very great. The German objective
had been Warsaw, and they tried to seize it, as they tried to seize
Paris, by a rapid and impetuous advance. They had reached Suvalki and
Rovno in the north, and their advanced parties were on their way to
Wilna, the capture of which would have cut the communications of Warsaw;
while southwards they had reached Radom, 140 miles over the border, and
two-thirds of the way to Warsaw. Suvalki saved Warsaw; for it compelled
the Germans to fall back north and south and evacuate West Poland. It is
beyond all measure the most important victory the Russians have gained;
for though the loss of Warsaw would not necessarily mean the loss of the
war, it would be a nasty blow to the Muscovite prestige, and might
entail the loss of Petrograd. As one of their most fervent well-wishers
I heartily rejoice that they won Suvalki. It must have been a knock-down
blow for Wilhelm der Grosse, as it showed conclusively that if he is a
Napoleonic tyrant he is not a Napoleonic genius. Like the little man
with the large head he is a big scoundrel; but, unlike the Corsican, he
is not a great soldier.

A wonderful army, though, is this German Army. After suffering a
crushing defeat and losing, with those drowned in the Niemen, from
70,000 to 80,000 men, they drew off in fairly good order, and in a few
days were again a formidable host. They did not sustain a "rout." No
fair, impartial account of what really occurred can go so far as to say
that. A crushing defeat it was, but not a rout.

These operations cost the Germans, in addition to their loss of men,
about 700 guns of various descriptions and 18,000 horses. About 850
waggons and carts fell into the Russian hands.




CHAPTER IX

CHIEFLY PERSONAL MATTER


The Russian soldier is a splendid fellow: I do not go so far as to say
that he is a first-class fighter. It is really difficult to describe him
correctly. He has been represented repeatedly as a dogged being; so he
is. His courage, too, is unimpeachable; but it is not a very intelligent
courage. The Russian soldier must be led, and the better led he is the
better he will fight. He has, as I have already hinted, an almost
religious reverence for his acknowledged superiors; and he is a
religious man. Perhaps it would be better to say, a superstitiously
religious man. He nearly always carries a relic or a little ikon of some
kind, and to this he frequently prays, kissing it at the same time. He
has an intense reverence for the Holy Virgin, and a common form of
greeting is, "Brother, Christ is risen," to which the comrade addressed
replies, "He is risen, indeed." Faithful, true-hearted and generous, he
never forsakes a friend; and, on the other hand, I am afraid he never
forgives an enemy. He can be dreadfully cruel to those he hates; yet, in
his ordinary mood, it would be difficult to find a man who has a
stronger natural dislike to shedding blood. He makes a good husband, is
passionately fond of children; but is not a merciful man in his dealing
with dumb animals. He is pudding-headed, but not obstinate in the usual
acceptance of the word; and his friend, or his officer, can lead him
anywhere. In a fight he dies like a Roman, and never abandons his
leader. It is difficult to imagine him a revolutionist or a King-killer,
though history has recorded that he can be either; and some terrible
things have occurred even in the reign of the present Czar.

That part of the Russian Army with which I was mostly in contact was
composed almost entirely of Siberians, people who retain very markedly
the features of their Mongolian origin. They are Asiatics, as, indeed,
are many Russians. At any rate, this seemed to be perfectly clear,
judging from their features and other indications; though, I must
confess, I am not learned on the subject of the origin of nations. Their
habits, too, are largely Asiatic, and there was a considerable admixture
of Tartar blood in some of the regiments; and in others many of the men
would easily have passed as Chinese. Some of the regiments were composed
of Kirghiz; and one, at least, of Mongolians pure and simple.

I fell into some confusion concerning the numbering and naming of the
regiments, because there seem to be several distinct armies in the
Russian services. The Siberian is one of these armies: and some of the
regiments were only known by their territorial designation, while others
had both name and number. The army from "All the Russias" seems to be
considered the elite troops; but in my opinion the Siberians are not in
any way inferior to them, and the Tiflis Rifles is one of the finest
bodies of light infantry I have ever seen.

The physique of the men, generally, is magnificent, and their powers of
endurance unsurpassed by that of any soldiers in the world. They can
march and fight, too, on rations so scanty and coarse that I much doubt
if any other European soldiers would tolerate such food. Many of the
regiments for days had no better diet than tea and biscuit. Milk was not
drunk in the tea, but sugar was used when it could be obtained. The
troops were supposed to have a ration of sugar, and also salt. Some
years ago the sugar ration was abolished, but the health of the men
deteriorated so much that it was again served out to them with
beneficial results; so it would seem that sugar is necessary to human
health. "How did people do when there was no sugar?" "When was that?"
"Before sugar honey was universally used; and honey is certainly a
natural sugar." The faddist is a very tiresome person anywhere; above
all things he should be kept away from armies and navies, where he may
do much mischief. Now the non-alcoholic idiot is getting the sway. What
a pass things are coming to! Waterloo was fought on beer, and Trafalgar
on rum; but I remember at the "Battle of Dorking" a Staff-Officer "came
between a poor cove and his grub," who nearly got himself shot for
complaining--the "poor cove" I mean, not the Staff-Officer.

The victory at Suvalki had far-reaching effects. Even at the few
posts where the Germans were not forced back they were compelled to
retire. Some of their cavalry made an effort to check the pursuit, but
it was unavailing. What appeared to be parts of two regiments, hussars
and dragoons, had the temerity to charge a battalion of our regiment.
The greater part of them went down in a heap, men and horses together.
On our side a regiment of Cossacks (said to be the 3rd of the Don)
charged a battalion of Prussians and dispersed them, taking 100
prisoners, including a colonel. During the retreat of the Germans many
small fights occurred which had no particular results on the campaign.
By the 3rd October whole corps of Russians were on Prussian soil.

[Illustration: RUSSIANS HURRYING AMMUNITION TO OPERATING LINES]

It was unfortunate that heavy rains again began to fall, as they
prevented so close a pursuit as would otherwise have harassed the enemy.
The country west of Suvalki, naturally a marsh, was rendered a huge
lake. The water was not deep enough to prevent the advance of cavalry
and infantry; but guns could not be dragged through the mud, and without
them it would have been unsafe to advance very far. Many of those
captured from the Germans were lost owing to the state of the ground,
but I do not think they were recovered by the enemy. They sank into the
morass and so disappeared.

I was very glad when a halt was called and we were ordered to find what
shelter we could, the regiment being far in advance of the main body.
The Germans had sadly devastated the country. We passed over many miles
of country in which scarcely so much as the shell of a house was left
standing: all were charred and blackened; and men, women and children
were found murdered. The bodies of two young boys under twelve years of
age lay on the roof of a low outhouse. They had been bayoneted and
thrown there, nobody could surmise why. Some bodies were burnt to
cinders, and others had been torn and partly eaten by swine and dogs.
The dogs, by-the-by, were numerous, and very fierce brutes.

In some spots, where the Germans had bivouacked, the heads and offal of
pigs showed that they had shot some of these animals, and also killed
ducks and fowls, for food, and cooked them at open-air fires made of the
belongings of the peasantry. Chairs and tables were left outside, just
in the positions in which they had evidently been used. A dish-cover was
left on one table, and when it was raised it revealed two pairs of human
hands severed at the wrists. The men to whom these hands had belonged,
and a woman, were found shot in the farm-house. All were old people, as
nearly all the murdered persons were, except some young women and
children. Besides the two boys already mentioned, a younger child and a
little girl of about fourteen years were seen lying on the ground. The
cause of the death of the girl did not appear, and it was probably
caused by fright. A woman clasping her baby had been shot. The bodies
had, in many cases, been treated with disgusting irreverence. Even a
hunchbacked man had been shot, and a poor old fellow with beard and hair
as white as snow. One sturdy dame seemed to have attempted to fight for
her life, for she held a hoe in her dead hands. Her body was riddled by
bullets.

To escape the rain I climbed up the half-burnt rafters of a cottage to a
room in which a portion of the floor and a corner of the roof were still
in position--I cannot say intact. Here, in imminent danger of a fall, I
slept the instant I stretched myself on the boards. Below were a score
of exhausted soldiers, too utterly weary to care a rap for danger from
falling walls: and long and soundly we all slept.

No food had been served out for two days, and when a commissariat waggon
came up only about half the men obtained biscuits. I was thinking of
cooking a pig's head left behind by the Germans when a soldier
generously gave me half a biscuit. Others followed his example, and in
this way I obtained a breakfast. The pigs which had escaped the
Prussians had all run away, but later in the day one was found and
killed, and about two pounds of its flesh found its way into my hands.
We resumed our march at 11 a.m., the enemy being known to be not far
off. During the afternoon we came up with one of their abandoned
waggons. It was full of champagne and hock! I am glad there were no
teetotallers about to witness the capture. What King Jamie meant by
being "fu'" I do not presume to know; but I am quite sure some of us
were "tight" before that waggon was done with, and I should like to see
the teetotaller, of exalted or humble rank, who would resist the
temptation of a good "swig" after forty-eight hours of such misery as
we had just gone through.

Apparently the Germans observed this capture; for they fired two shells
at us from a range of about three miles. One shot fell 200 yards from
us, the other came a little nearer, but neither interrupted the
interesting work in hand.

Notwithstanding the preconceived opinions of book strategists,
long-range firing does not seem to be productive of very destructive
results, even with heavy artillery. It was certainly not much resorted
to in this campaign. Even rifle shooting seldom took place at a longer
range than 1,000 yards; and much oftener at not more than half that
distance; while firing at point-blank range was frequent. The bayonet
did as much work as in any war that ever took place; in some fights half
the casualties were caused by its use. Cavalry, too, faced infantry fire
boldly and successfully. We were to have no more charges of masses of
cavalry according to the theorists. But on at least half-a-dozen
occasions bodies of over 4,000 horsemen made most telling charges. In
one case at least 10,000 cavalry took part in a charge, riding over the
Prussian infantry as they might have ridden over stubble. The Cossacks,
like the Uhlans, have hooks attached to the butts of their lances; and
with these they whipped officers from their horses, and men from the
ground in the most extraordinary way, sometimes pulling them up into
their own saddles and bringing them in prisoners. How they liked the
humiliation of this treatment may be gathered from the remark of one
officer made to me in English, "D----n it! I would rather have been
killed"; but he joined in the general laugh at his accident.

Perhaps I have no right to record mere impressions and ideas; and I
intend to avoid doing so generally; but there are some opinions and
beliefs which had a general bearing on what I did, and especially on
what I recorded; and I think I may be excused if I sometimes refer to
these.

As a case in point, I was generally very ignorant of what was taking
place in other areas of the war. German newspapers were pretty plentiful
in all our camps; but very few French or British found their way into
our hands. German accounts were not reliable in my opinion, but some of
their statements could hardly be altogether untrue. The news of the loss
by submarine torpedoes of the three battleships, _Aboukir_, _Hogue_ and
_Cressy_, perturbed me greatly. The reports in German newspapers,
combined with other rumours which reached us, made it clear enough that
the British Navy had met with a great disaster, though I was compelled
to rely on the translations of Russian comrades of these German reports.

The Russian cavalry made some attempts to penetrate East Prussia, and
get at the trains which were conveying troops from Koenigsberg
southwards; but none of these attempts were successful so far as I have
heard. A few isolated patrols got a long way into Prussia, but, I think,
in no case did they succeed in wrecking a train.

For a time I was out of action, though I tried to reach the scenes of
fighting I heard was in progress. The East Prussian frontier is a very
difficult country for military operations, especially those of an
offensive description. The marsh lands are very extensive, and there are
numerous lakes and ponds which greatly aid the defending force, while
much hindering those engaged in the attack. Lakes and marshes enable an
army on the defensive greatly to extend its front; which those engaged
in the assault cannot do without at any rate incurring great risks. The
Germans often threw up batteries between two lakes, or a lake and a
marsh situated near each other. As these could be approached only on a
narrow neck of land, they could be defended by a mere handful of men,
while the attacking force was not only compelled to advance a strong
party, but had, also, to keep others in hand to prevent being
outflanked.

Something of this kind of fighting I saw; but much of it occurred
further south, near the Vistula river, in a district where I was not
engaged at the time it took place.

These marshes and lakes greatly assisted the Germans and probably saved
them from the rout which they are supposed by some people to have
sustained. I do not know of any instance where they were forced to
evacuate such a defensive position as that I have described. In fact the
marshes of East Prussia saved the country from a serious invasion, and
certainly checked the Russian advance into the heart of the country. If
heavy siege guns could have been brought up they might have effected
something; but as it was, not even light field artillery could be moved
over the ground in any quantity. The amount of rain which fell was quite
abnormal, and was often almost incessant for days together. Then there
would be some signs of a clear up; but long before more than the surface
of the ground was dry it would begin to pour down again. I never saw so
much mud in any other country, nor such deep, tenacious stuff. Even men
sometimes stuck fast in it and had to be hauled out of quagmires with
the aid of ropes. I have recorded that the Germans lost many guns owing
to their sinking into it; some also were lost by the Russians, even when
they were not under fire; and the destruction of horses through being
smothered to death or by exhaustion was deplorable. In fact the mud
sometimes troubled the Russians far more than the foe did. It prevented
the commissariat and reserve ammunition waggons from coming up; but, on
the whole, lying in it, and being subjected to a continuous downpour of
rain, did not seem to adversely affect the health of the men. The field
hospitals were always crowded by wounded, but the sick from disease were
singularly few in number.

Amongst other things about which there were rumours in our army was the
destruction that airships and aeroplanes were causing. The Russians had
aeroplanes; but they were not strong in this kind of military force, and
we seldom saw one. The Germans, however, occasionally sent a few over
our lines, and on the 5th October I saw one shot down. It swerved a good
deal, and I expected to see it turn over and drop, but it came down
slowly enough to prevent the airmen from sustaining much hurt. The
"navigator" was one of the most irritable and arrogant rascals I ever
met. He was very angry at his accident, and fumed and swore incessantly
and had not the least fear of consequences before his eyes. He shook his
fist in the faces of the Cossacks and officers who first came up to his
wrecked machine, beat and kicked his unfortunate mechanic, and raved
like a lunatic. Even his captors seemed to be in considerable awe of
him. Some hours afterwards I saw this fellow eating a meal outside a
tent. He was devouring the food like what he probably was--a human hog.

Another astonishing trait in the German Army was the remarkable way in
which it frequently recovered lost ground. The Battle of Suvalki, and
the operations further south, had the effect of causing a general
retirement of the enemy's line; and amongst other places they abandoned
was Radom; but in a week or ten days they were back in this place, and
had even pushed much nearer to Warsaw. Our scouts ascertained that they
were in force along the Vistula from Ivangorod to Varko; and their Uhlan
patrols were seen at the hamlet of Vistikar, near Gora, not twenty
versts from Warsaw. Whether they ever got nearer to the ancient city I
do not know, but for a time we all expected and feared that it would
fall. Nobody believed that the old capital of Poland could long stand
against an investment by our powerful and cunning foes.

But, while recovering themselves in the south, the Germans did not, at
this time, do so in the Suvalki district, or in those parts near the
Spirding See where the recent severe fighting had taken place: Russian
soldiers still remained on German soil.

The weather grew worse, and seriously affected most of our important
operations. Gloom began to settle on the troops; especially when
accounts of adversity to our forces in Galicia reached us. These
generally came from German sources; but some of our own officers brought
news that progress was being stopped by floods, and the enormous
reinforcement the enemy had succeeded in bringing up. Often we did not
know what to believe; the reports were so contradictory that it was
evident one side or another was telling deliberate lies. A comical side
was once or twice given to the matter, owing to German, Austrian and
Russian "unofficial sources" giving diametrically opposite accounts of
the same circumstances. Willing as we were to believe our own side to be
the most truthful, it was not always possible to ignore the
circumstantiality of our opponents. It became evident that all three
sides were a little given to exaggeration--not to give it a harsher
designation.

The dreadful weather was more than I could endure, and I was obliged to
fall out. I was taken by rail to a convent hospital at Grodno, and there
so well and carefully nursed by the sisters, with whom were associated
many of the ladies of the town, that I quite recovered and was fit for
service again in less than a week.

I could not find my old regiment, however, and my adventures with the
Russians might have terminated at this point had I not happened to run
up against an officer with whom I had some acquaintance. Captain
Shalkotoff belonged to the commissariat department; and as he was going
south with a convoy he invited me to accompany him as far as Ostrolenka,
his first destination; and I accepted his kind proposal.




CHAPTER X

THE FIGHTING ON THE VISTULA IN THE MONTH OF OCTOBER, 1914


Shalkotoff had about eighty waggons and carts under his command, all
loaded with provisions which had come from Vilna, where there was a
magazine. He was travelling by march-route, the railway-lines being
fully occupied by troop trains, and in the conveyance of wounded men and
prisoners. Every night we camped in the mud by the roadside, unless
buildings or houses were available, which was not often the case. For
the Germans had destroyed so many of these that what were left were
crowded by homeless people herded together in dreadful misery, starving,
and possessed of nothing but what they stood in. We passed through some
districts, however, in which a German had not been seen; and in others
they had not been so brutal as the generality of their countrymen. Nor
are all Germans equally cruel. At a place called Mirno, near Jedvabno,
we met a band of 200 prisoners being marched to the railway-station at
Setshutchin for conveyance into the interior. Several of them were
officers, and one, a captain, expressed his disgust at the brutality of
his countrymen. He said it came to him as a terrible revelation that
Germans could be so cruel and wicked, and he was as much astonished at
it as any person in the world. Others, of all ranks, at different times,
expressed much the same opinion.

Perhaps nothing hurt Russian feeling more than the desecration of their
churches. The Germans too often evinced a bigotry and irreverence for
things that most people consider sacred similar to that which disgraced
our own Cromwellians three centuries ago. They stabled their horses in
the churches, littered the floors of the sacred edifices with filth, and
broke the images. Such conduct is deplorable; nothing can be more
revolting than to hurt a people through its religion, whatever we may
think of its bigotry and idolatry. Besides, the indomitable bravery of
the Greek and Romish priesthood in this deplorable war must ever command
the admiration of all right-thinking men; and this alone should have
protected them from insult.

It is about 120 miles from Grodno to Ostrolenka, and it took us nine
days to march this distance, so defective was the state of the roads.
During this time we fared pretty sumptuously; for the drivers and
officers helped themselves liberally to the provisions under their
charge. In addition to the coarse biscuit, cheese, tea, sugar and
coffee, which form the bulk of the Russian soldiers' daily food, there
was salt pork, rancid butter, potatoes, and a number of hampers destined
for officers whom they never reached. The broaching of such goods is
indefensible, but it is pretty general in all armies, not even excepting
the British: those who have been soldiers know what "old soldiers" are;
and, no doubt, I ought to admit that I require a brushful of white-wash
myself. For a dish of bacon, or a cup of wine, being placed in front of
one, what is one to do but relieve the craving of nature? The only
defence I can make is that we all do it, as circumstances occasion.

At Ostrolenka we were ordered on to Pultusk; and here we found a
division of infantry and another of Cossacks--about 14,000 men in all,
the units being reduced by the ravages of war. Among the Cossacks was
the celebrated 5th of the Don, with its woman colonel, who seemed to be
not more than thirty years of age. She had adopted male costume, and
rode astride like her troopers. She was a pleasant-faced woman, but not
a beauty, in my opinion; and there was nothing fierce or commanding in
her appearance. She was said to be of unflinching courage under any
circumstances, and to be almost worshipped by her soldiers. So it may be
surmised that her rule is gentle and just.

At Pultusk I had my first, and almost only, trouble with the people whom
I was trying to serve. A fussy officer wanted to know, rather too
minutely, who I was, and how the non-commissioned officer, Chouraski,
came to be travelling with me. I had certificates, and Chouraski a
permit, signed by a Staff Officer, and countersigned by General
Rennenkampf himself; but it was a long time before the interfering
colonel could be persuaded. He sent for a captain of the 40th Siberian
regiment named Lofe who could speak English, and ultimately was
persuaded to permit me to join the captain's company, and to retain
Chouraski as a servant. I was given no position in the regiment, but
simply served as a volunteer.

The same night, the 14th October, we made a forced march to the railway,
a distance, I computed, of at least twenty-four English miles. We
arrived at a spot where there was no station, and found troops
entraining and going off in the direction of Warsaw. There seemed to be
miles of trains by the roadside, and we got into one at a level-crossing
and immediately steamed away south, as the others had done.

A drizzling rain was falling, the day was close, and a grey mist
enveloped everything so that one could see nothing twenty yards beyond
the side of the line. In two hours we arrived at Praga, a suburb of
Warsaw, and found the line held strongly by infantry and field
artillery. We heard that heavy fighting was going on beyond Milosna, and
our train crawling on for another twenty miles, we could hear the sounds
of the battle ourselves. We were ordered to alight by the side of the
line, all the stations having been put into a state of defence and
turned into small fortresses.

The Staff Officer who posted us happened to be a friend of Lofe's, and
he told us that the Germans were making a strong effort to break through
to the line for a distance of at least ninety versts; and he believed
that fighting was going on at other points as far as Lublin. The troops
actually posted on the line were reserves; the fighting was taking
place at the passages of the Vistula sixteen versts away.

During the night the fog was so thick that one could not see the man
standing beside him. We bivouacked by the side of the line, which here
was laid on perfectly level ground. The next morning the weather was no
better; but when the rain began to fall faster the atmosphere cleared a
little, and we were ordered to advance about six versts and dig
trenches. We were engaged in this work all day, being assisted by 800
country people, half of whom were women, who displayed the utmost
anxiety to help us in resisting a hated enemy, from whose hands many of
them had received the deepest insult.

We saw nothing of the enemy, but heard the distant sound of battle; and
some carts bore a few badly wounded men past us. We were engaged in the
work of digging trenches and making emplacements for guns until the
20th, being assisted during this time by the peasantry: and fighting
went on continuously at the front. I was anxious to see something of it,
but loth to leave the side of Lofe, owing to the difficulty I had in
making myself understood by strangers; and after my dispute with the
officer at Pultusk I was a little nervous, being afraid I might be
seized and sent away.

Lofe was a very amiable fellow and I got on well with him, as I did with
all the Russians with whom I became well acquainted. Life in the
trenches was not to our taste. We applied for permission to go down to
the front to witness the fighting, but it was refused. So we had to
remain where we were and elaborate our defences. How many hundreds of
miles of wire we used in our entanglements I should not like to guess;
but if the Germans had ever reached them, I think they would have left a
good many dead in front of them. With the barbed wire "crow-nets," as we
called them, we intermixed a great many staked pits, and other amiable
devices for shortening the days of our enemies.

The battle was clearly for the possession of Warsaw; and more than once
rumours reached us that the foe had carried the city at the point of the
bayonet; but I do not think they ever got within sight of any part of
it, though many of their newspapers claim that they did, and even
occupied its suburbs. The last-named claim was evidently false; but the
place had a narrow escape of falling. The fight seems to have worn
itself out; or the Germans fell back: for all was quiet on the 21st,
though neither side had obtained a victory.

This was too frequently the sequence to a prolonged fight or series of
fights. The opposing force seemed to get tired out, and a lull ensued,
during which one would scarcely hear a stray rifle shot. On the 21st,
however, some of our troops at the front captured a German band! It
consisted of about forty musicians, though they said there had been
eighty of them when they first came to the front. Asked to give us some
music they played willingly enough, and very well. The Russian regiments
have bands, but I heard and saw very little of them during this war;
they seemed to have been sent to the rear to attend to wounded men. Some
of the Siberian regiments, and the foot Cossacks, have dancing men who
march at the head of the battalions, and dance, sing, and clash cymbals,
when moving from place to place.

It is hardly necessary to record that the Germans made desperate
attempts to cross the river during the fighting referred to just now. I
did not actually witness any of the fighting at this stage, but I know
that it all failed. I was told that they tried to pontoon the stream at
a place called Viegrod, abreast of Garvolin station. The pontoons were
smashed to pieces, and several hundreds of the enemy drowned. Small
detachments got over at various places, some in boats, others by means
of flying bridges; but they were all destroyed or captured. They did not
succeed in forcing any of the permanent bridges, which were defended by
_tetes-de-pont_. The Russians claimed that they completely wiped out
some of these detachments. I saw bodies lying together within very
narrow spaces of ground; and I have no doubt that the peasantry avenged
themselves by killing the wounded: and I know that the Russian infantry
bayoneted every man of one detachment of about 300. Still a good many
prisoners were taken, and sent by train to Warsaw.

The Germans used some aeroplanes for observation work; but on being
fired at these machines went out of range and kept there. It would have
been a great advantage to the Russians to have had some of these things;
but that they had few, or none, in this part of the field, shows that
aircraft cannot materially affect a foe who is without them. No doubt
aeroplanes have done splendid work for the Allies, and inflicted serious
losses on the enemy; but they do not often seem to be able to face an
army in the field.

It may give some idea of what is meant by "casualties" if I mention that
about 40,000 recovered wounded rejoined the Russian Army while we were
on the line of the Vistula. So a heavy list of losses does not
necessarily mean that a vast number of men are permanently disabled from
taking part in their country's services. Recoveries, too, are very rapid
when the men are attended by good surgeons and good nurses.

I obtained one glimpse of the enemy's position. Not a German was to be
seen; but puffs of smoke showed where their guns were placed. Smokeless
powder was used by both sides for their rifle cartridges; but not for
artillery; or at any rate, it was not efficacious when fired from heavy
guns.

Both sides entrenched themselves, according to reports, for a distance
of more than 300 versts. Afterwards I heard that trenches and earthworks
were made along the whole of the German and Austrian frontiers, a result
of both sides finding it impossible to make any material headway into
each other's territory. The battle degenerated into an artillery
engagement. The Russians brought up some heavy guns of about 6-inch
calibre, and a few that were a little larger, and with these bombarded
the German positions. The enemy, on their part, were similarly
provided; and so the see-saw went on--banging at each other without
noticeable results. Generally speaking, an artillery duel is the tamest
of all kinds of fighting from a spectator's point of view. The only time
when it becomes a little lively is when a shell happens to drop just
behind one. It usually causes a sudden start forward, or an Eastern
position of adoration, which is by far the safest to assume. The
wonderful "Jack Johnsons," of which I have heard and read so much, were
not used by the Germans in this region, though the nickname seems to
have been given to any large shell. The "Jack Johnsons," however, were
huge shells which appeared to have weighed from 1,600 to 2,000 pounds
each, when charged. It was useless waste to fire them against anything
but forts, and I much doubt if the Germans used them for any other
purpose. The guns, being howitzers, could fire about 100 of these before
needing retubing: so the shooting-power of the huge weapons was limited.
Every shot must have cost about L200, and it is not likely that the
Germans would waste them by shooting at trenches and small parties,
where the effect would be comparatively of little moment. Very high
explosives were used by the Germans, and some of their projectiles made
very large holes in the ground.

Watching the firing, I could not perceive that ours was doing much harm;
while that of the enemy certainly was not. Occasionally a few yards of
our trenches was blown in, and a man or two destroyed; but the
impression left on my mind was that trench warfare would go on for ever,
unless some more effective force than mere artillery fire were brought
to bear on an army so protected: and shelling a position is a very
expensive mode of warfare. I afterwards saw that to destroy a hundred
yards of trench cost 4,000 or 5,000 shells; and even then the defending
force nearly always contrived to make good a retreat to a second, or
third, line of defence. To shell an enemy out of a good defensive
position is, I believe, an impossibility; therefore permanent fortresses
should be constructed on the lines of a system of trenches, the guns
being placed in Moncrieff pits or other specially constructed
emplacements. I am quite convinced that unless guns are hidden, their
destruction is assured. Modern gunfire is as accurate as that of
rifle-shooting: it will, therefore, easily hit any mark which the
gunners can locate.

Everybody knows that patience is a virtue, and that it generally obtains
a reward. Our turn came. The 40th Siberians, better known to the men by
an unpronounceable name, which, never having seen it in print, I cannot
pretend to spell, were ordered to cross the Vistula on the morning of
the 20th October.

I expected that there would have been some fighting; but there was not.
The rain was falling in a steady downpour; and we could not see the
opposite bank of the river. Perhaps the wet damped the ardour of the
Germans. Certainly I should think that the autumn and winter of 1914-15
was the wettest ever known. The right bank of the river was bad enough,
but the left was the softest marsh we had so far experienced. No wonder
the Germans could no longer make much resistance: their trenches were
full of water. I slipped into one, and thought I was going to be
drowned. Fortunately for me a couple of the men stopped to assist me;
for there was six or seven feet of water in the wretched trench. Many of
our men met with similar accidents, and I am not sure that some of them
did not lose their lives. I saw the bodies of Germans floating in their
ditches, but these may have been men killed previously to the flooding.

It was entirely an infantry fight. We had crossed the river on rafts
towed by boats, and could bring no guns; while those of the enemy which
could be moved they were anxiously striving to save, and did not stop to
fire. Many of their heavy guns they destroyed to render them useless to
us, but a number of machine-guns were brought into action on each side.

For many miles the left bank of the Vistula is a deep morass, with
extensive woods, and a few scattered houses and hamlets. The inhabitants
of these were all gone, fled or murdered; and the Germans had pierced
the walls of their homes with loop-holes, and piled the furniture, carts
and farm implements together to form barricades. They failed, however,
to stop our advance. Position after position was carried, sometimes by a
withering rifle-fire, sometimes at the point of the bayonet. Brave as he
is, the German soldier is not ashamed to plead abjectly for his life
when he is driven into a corner. I saw men clinging to the bayonets that
were about to terminate their existences; and many actually screamed for
mercy. It was not much use making such petitions; the women and old men
who had been driven in, leaving a toll of murdered behind, had stories
to tell which inflamed the fiercest passions of the soldiers. I
contrived to save the lives of one or two of these wretched Germans; but
my own safety required that I should not interfere too strenuously; and
though, I hope, I should not fear to give my life in a just cause, or to
save a just person, I was not prepared to throw it away on behalf of
ravishers and child-stabbers.

In this fight I crossed swords with a German officer of the 2/94th
regiment (probably Landwehr), a portly gentleman who thought fit to
finish the encounter by an unconditional surrender. He took advantage of
my remissness in watching him, and tried to escape back to his own men.
Some of our fellows noticed this, and--well, he had not time to suffer
much. Dishonourable acts, and breaches of word, were very common amongst
the Germans; but it often got severely punished.

The enemy suffered most, I heard, at places called Sandomir and
Kozyniece. The latter place is close to Ivangorod, which was, for some
days, our headquarters, and the centre of our line. Further north, near
Bloni, and Vishgo, and at Novogeorgevsk, they suffered more severely,
and gave way sooner. By the evening of the 21st they were retiring at
many places along the entire line; but at some spots they stood firm
with remarkable tenacity, and suffered themselves to be almost
surrounded.

We passed the night in a hamlet of a dozen houses which had been
defended by a company of jagers (riflemen). Only forty-eight of them
survived our attack with the bayonet; and these we captured. They slept
in the same rooms with their captors, played cards with them, and sang
jovial-sounding songs, apparently quite unmoved by the fact that 120
dead bodies of their comrades lay in the gardens and courtyards outside.
Both the Germans and Russians are great card-players and inveterate
gamblers.

In the morning, before it was daylight, we made our prisoners dig graves
and bury the dead--129 of theirs, sixty-two of ours: we then sent them
to the rear under an escort, while we advanced towards Chinlin, and
began skirmishing with the enemy, who were only 600 or 700 yards in
front of us.

Both sides took shelter behind pine-trees; and very little execution was
done, though the firing went on nearly all day. At last the Germans took
post in a thick wood, and it became clear they had been playing with us
all these hours while their sappers placed this copse in a state of
defence. The discovery was rather humiliating; but these things occur in
war, and it was not the only occasion on which our cunning opponents
"came the old soldier" over their denser, slow-thinking foes. But in
spite of their slyness they were beaten. Some Russian battalions got
behind the wood, and its defenders were compelled to run for their
lives. They ran very well, but most of them were captured; and we
passed the second night in the nice, nest-like little hovels they had
prepared for their own accommodation.

The German dearly loves his comfort and good cheer. They never seemed to
be short of food, and we took carts laden with wine that had been made
in France and must have been sent hither at much trouble and expense
only to find its way down Russian throats in spite of the Czar's
teetotal proclamation. I think the German troops must be taught to make
bivouacks and huts, they are such adepts at the work; and render their
dens so comfortable by a hundred little devices that show they have
previously studied the art of adapting everything to their own welfare
and ease. Needless to say, the plunder of houses and cottages was
utilized for furnishing these temporary abodes.

There was now no doubt that the Germans were retreating; but they were
doing so in that leisurely way which indicated that their retirement was
anything but a rout; and I foresaw that it would not be long before they
turned again with renewed ferocity. I do not think that the troops we
had been opposed to were some of the best that Germany could put in the
field. In some battalions there did not appear to be a man under forty
years of age: in others they were all boys: and these last named were
amongst the best fighters. I passed over ground strewn with the dead of
one of these battalions, and not a lad of them seemed to be much over
twenty years; some were not more than sixteen or seventeen.

Many stories were brought to us of what had taken place in other
districts. All agreed that the Germans had not succeeded in entering
Warsaw; but it was reported that a fleet of aeroplanes had sailed over
the city and dropped bombs. Only private houses had been wrecked; not
much damage done, and the "hostile aircraft" had soon been driven away.
As nothing was said about the bringing down of any of these aeroplanes,
I felt pretty sure that they had all escaped the Russian fire. The
Germans had not left much for them to destroy in their retreat; and I
never learned from whence they had come, or whither they went when they
had completed their fell work. We saw nothing of them in our district.

On the 23rd we still continued to follow the enemy, keeping in touch
with them, and exchanging shots. About the middle of the day we were
joined by a large force of artillery and cavalry. Where these troops
came from I cannot tell. They were a welcome reinforcement; but as we
were moving through a wooded country they could not make much impression
on the enemy, except when the latter attempted to make a stand. The
trees were mostly pines, and the ground beneath them free of
undergrowth; and the destruction of them, after a few hours' cannonade,
was enormous. Whole forests looked as if they had been blighted, or
blasted by lightning.

The German jagers often took post in the trees, as affording a
favourable place for marksmanship; but when our gunners discovered them
we had an extraordinary sight as a small crowd of arms and legs came
tumbling through the air in every imaginable position. Those of the men
who were not killed by the shrapnel usually lost their lives by the
shock of the fall. Sometimes big trees were snapped clean in two when
the shell had made a direct hit before bursting. More generally the
branches were ripped to shreds by the flying shower of bullets. I saw
the dead body of one rifleman lodged amongst the boughs of a large pine.
He must have been killed instantly, for he was still clasping his rifle
in his hands.

There were some painful scenes. We came across a fine, handsome young
fellow raving over the body of another boy. It was ascertained that they
were brothers, and, "What will mother do? This will kill her," was all
he could say. I never saw a man more grief-stricken. A few hours
afterwards we found a man shot through the body. Blood was bubbling from
his mouth and nose, and he was dying fast; but he had struggled to his
knees, and leaning against a tree-trunk was praying--not for himself,
but for his wife and four little children. By chance I discovered that
this man could speak English. He had been a clerk in Liverpool. He was
distressingly anxious about his family, and begged we would not destroy
a letter addressed to his wife which he had in his pocket. "For," he
said, "I knew I should not come through this"--the war, I suppose, he
meant.

I assured him that nothing found upon him should be disturbed, and that
the letter should be sent to the German commander on the first
opportunity. We did what we could to relieve his suffering, and sent a
man back for the Red Cross men who were following behind; but the poor
fellow died before they arrived. War is a curse.

The rain ceased only for a few hours at a time. It generally commenced
to fall as evening came on, and continued to pour down steadily the
greater part of the night. Sometimes it rained night and day without
cessation, and the thickest overcoats became saturated with wet. I made
a kind of cloak from the remains of a rick-cloth which I found in the
outhouse of a burnt farm; and this was a great protection.

The country we were passing through was deserted. The Polish peasantry
are very poor, and what would become of the miserable people, who, like
the Irish of a former day, depended on their pigs, fowls and
potato-crops, it was painful to think. We supposed they had fled to the
towns; but every now and then we came across the bodies of some of them,
and it is certain that hundreds had been wantonly destroyed by their
cruel enemies.

For many miles we marched through a flooded country, and passed the
Pilica River by means of a bridge which was partly under water, the
reason, perhaps, that the Prussians missed it. We were guided to it by
an old peasant who had been in hiding; but the banks of the river were
quite hidden under water, and on this account many of our men, as well
as Germans, floundered into it and were drowned. Horses and waggons were
swept away, and some guns captured. Our own guns were forced to go
higher up the stream and were, I believe, passed over a pontoon bridge.
Hundreds of Cossacks swam their horses across, and gathered up some
prisoners. They sent a far greater number to their long account, and
seized an immense booty in food, stores, etc. For the Germans always
stripped the country they passed through of everything that was worth
carrying away. That which was too cumbersome to be moved they destroyed.

I never actually heard who commanded the Germans, or our own force. At
one time rumour asserted that the Kaiser himself was chief of our
enemies, and was personally directing their movements. When this surmise
exploded, we were repeatedly told that the Crown Prince was the
Commander-in-Chief. All that was known with certainty was that we were
immediately opposed, for a week at least, by a divisional commander
named Swartzenberg. On our own side Major Beke was the battalion
commander under whom I served. He was killed soon after we crossed the
Vistula, and was succeeded by an officer who was wounded and sent to the
rear on the same day he was appointed. His successor only held the
command two days when he was blinded by a piece of wood driven into his
face by the explosion of a shell. Krischelcamsk then became our leader.
Colonel Tunreshka was the regimental commandant. He disappeared the
night after we crossed the Pilica. The general opinion was that he was
drowned in the river; but he may have been taken prisoner.

One reason of the unusually rapid retreat of the Germans on this
occasion was that they had expended nearly all their ammunition, and
were unable to bring up more on account of the dreadful state of the
country--knee-deep in mud, and covered with water. It is an ill wind
that blows nobody any good; and the rain, which hampered the Russian on
one hand, helped to save Warsaw on the other.

We reached Skyermevice on the 24th. It is a town of some size, and the
people had not abandoned it. They crowded the streets to see us pass
through, and loudly cheered us. Flags sprang from somewhere, and
decorated all the windows and shop doors; and the women brought us food
and drink, which had been hid away. The inhabitants of the town had
suffered a good deal, and had been compelled, as usual when the Germans
occupied a place, to pay a heavy war-tax, or fine. A number of the
principal men had been dragged away as hostages; I never learned their
fate. Everywhere the Germans behaved like a band of brigands and
murderers. One instance of their paltry-mindedness may be recorded. At a
house where Captain Lofe and I spent the night, and from which some
billeted Germans had run away on our approach, these miserable creatures
had killed the little girl's canary, and she was inconsolable for the
loss of her pet. It was not the only occasion on which birds, cats and
pet dogs were wantonly and cruelly destroyed to vex their owners.

On the 25th while we were marching towards Lowvitz we encountered a
Prussian battalion which had been driven towards us by three sotnias of
Cossacks. They could not escape, and we charged them with the bayonet.
I must give them the credit due to them: on this occasion the Germans
fought well and determinedly. But our men had become very expert in the
use of the bayonet, and when the enemy had lost half their number the
remainder broke and fled. The Cossacks were waiting for them, and I do
not think that any of them escaped. No prisoners were taken: and this
often happened during the campaign. Both sides were equally guilty of
this cruelty--if cruelty it was. But really the Germans were so
fiendishly brutal, that, as I have previously said, I think reprisals
were justifiably resorted to. Be this so or not, and whatever may be
thought of the act, it is certain that, on many occasions, bodies of
both Germans and R

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