Chapter 11
A REAR-GUARD ACTION
In a couple of hours' time the march was continued in the darkness. The men lurched from side to side, with brains too fagged to control their feet. The Company was sent out to act as flank-guard on the top of the crest beneath which the column was moving. This movement was very tiresome, as they had to move over broken country in an _extended_ formation, and to keep up with the column which was moving in _close_ formation along the road. To compensate for this they were able to fill their haversacks with a peculiarly sweet kind of apple.
Later in the morning they emerged from the close country into the typical open plains of France, covered with corn and vegetables. About five or six miles of this, and then the darker greens of pine and fir forests appeared in view.
The General Staff had selected this as the site of yet another rear-guard action. One of the other Brigades in the Division was already busily engaged in constructing a line of trenches not more than a hundred yards in front of the woods. To their front the view was uninterrupted, offering a field of fire unbroken by the least suspicion of cover from view or fire.
The artillery was no doubt concealed in the woods behind. The men were doing their work with a quick, noiseless efficiency that would have made you very proud if you could have seen them.
Soon after the Column had passed into the woods, the noise of the guns was heard. The Subaltern could imagine the whole scene as vividly as if he could see it: the van-guard of the German Advanced Guard suddenly "held up" by the bursting of the British shells; the hasty deployment of the German cavalry; the further "holding up" of the main-guard of the Advanced Guard while a reconnaissance was being carried out with the help, perhaps, of a "Taube." Remember that the Germans must have been daily, almost hourly, expecting the Allies to make a determined attempt to check their continued advance, and must have been very nervous of walking into some trap. Therefore the Commander of the German Advanced Guard would have to discover very exactly the nature of the resistance in front of him before the Officer commanding the main body--some miles behind, of course--could decide what force it would be necessary to deploy in order to dislodge the enemy from his position.
This is no easy matter. What the retreating army is fighting for is time--time to get clean away. Consequently, if the Officer commanding the advancing army deploys a larger force than is necessary, he grants his opponent the very thing that he wants--time, since the deployment of, say, a Division is a very lengthy operation, occupying at least three hours. On the other hand, if he details too small a force for the work, his attack is held in check, and more time than ever is wasted in reinforcing it in a measure sufficient to press home the attack.
The Subaltern imagined the long wait while the shells shrieked over the heads of the infantry towards an enemy as yet unseen. Then the enemy shells would begin to feel their way to the thin brown line of trenches, and under cover of their fire the infantry, now deployed into fighting formations, would "advance." Then our men would begin firing, firing with cool precision. The landscape would soon be dotted with grey ants. Machine-guns would cut down whole lines of grey ants with their "plop-plop-plop." Shrapnel would burst about whole clouds of grey ants, burying them in brown clouds of dust. Finally, the directing brain would decide that it was time to cut and run. The artillery fire would be increased tenfold, and under cover of it the brown ants would scamper from the trenches and disappear into the green depths of the woods. Soon the firing would cease. The retreating party would have got safely, cleanly away, having gained many precious hours for the main body, and having incidentally inflicted severe losses on the enemy. The latter, have nothing left to do but to re-form (thus losing still more time), would then continue his pursuit weaker and further from his opponent than he had been before.
At last, striking a clearing, the town of Villiers Cotterets was reached. There was nothing to distinguish it from a score of other small agricultural centres through which the Column had passed. The only thing the Subaltern remembers about this town is that he handed a French peasant woman there a couple of francs on the odd chance that she would bring back some chocolate. She did not.
On the further side of the town the Brigade Transport, with steaming cookers, was massed ready to give the troops a midday meal. This was an innovation greatly appreciated. Such a thing as a meal in the middle of the day had not occurred since the days of Iron.