CHAPTER XIX

THE FIGHTING BEFORE PLOCK

On the second day of the march I ascertained that we were falling back on Warsaw; and Sawmine, who had been made a Captain, agreed with me that something must be wrong in the North. There were no Germans near us. Trenches and earthworks in the neighbourhood were strongly held; but I noticed that none of the guns of position appeared to exceed 6-inch calibre, which was not heavy enough to resist successfully the huge siege-guns which the Germans were sure to bring up if they invaded this district.

No news reached us, and we were kept marching almost incessantly. We had no tents, and seldom slept under cover, though the cold seemed to freeze one's marrow. Sometimes the officers, and a few favoured men, slept in beds in houses on the route; and sometimes hay and straw was thrown down by the side of the road, and we rested on this in the best way we could. Most of the troops we passed had tents, and some were hutted in hovels made of pine-boughs, thatched with the leaves or twigs of those trees.

We did not enter Warsaw. About four versts outside the town we were halted in two long ranks on either side of a road, and served out with new boots, which we were sadly in need of. My own feet, like those of many of the men, were nearly bare, and cut, frostbitten and bleeding. I had not possessed socks or stockings for many weeks; and these were not in general use in the Russian Army. At this halt I obtained a quantity of tallow, which is an excellent thing with which to anoint the feet, chilblains, cuts, or wounds, and bruises of any kind.

Biscuits and raw fish were here also served out. The fish was not cooked in the least, but seemed to have been preserved in wet salt. So far from being a revolting food, it was quite tasty, and I became very fond of it. We had to eat this meal as we marched along; and that without any other drink than water; and we were kept on the tramp until far into the night. It was too dark to read a watch, and we were strictly forbidden to strike matches or to smoke; but I suppose it was two or three o'clock in the morning when we received permission to lie down in the streets of a village. The people gladly received us into their houses; but we were ordered not to undress, and to be ready to fall in at a moment's notice. I lay down on the outside of a bed which a woman pointed out to me, and immediately went to sleep; but I suppose she soon aroused me, and presented a bowl containing about three pints of strong tea without milk and sugar. I was almost too sleepy to drink it, badly as I wanted a refresher; and the large parcel of food she gave me I put into my haversack: then dropped asleep again.

It was scarcely daylight when I was again aroused. A military band was playing noisily in the street, and the battalion was falling in outside the door. The band did not belong to our regiment; but as it marched not far behind, we had the benefit of its music, such as it was, consisting principally of brass instruments and drums, with plenty of tinkling cymbals.

Soon after midday we crossed the Vistula by the bridge at Novogeorgevsk, and went along a road running, for a long distance, almost parallel with the right bank of that river. The people in the town, and in the villages we passed through, were in a state of extreme excitement, and Sawmine said they were asserting that severe fighting had occurred at Plock, and the Russians had got the worst of it, and were retreating.

Plock is a large town on the right bank of the Vistula, seventy-three versts from Novogeorgevsk. There is no railway running between the two towns, nor between Plock and the Prussian frontier, distant another 100 versts. Nothing can show the poverty of Russia more than this want of railways: for the nearest station to Plock is Vroclavick on the left bank of the Vistula, and distant fully fifty versts (two days' long marches); yet Plock is in the centre of an important district on the main road from Warsaw to the Prussian fortress of Thorn, a place of such strength that the Russians have not dared to approach it.

On the 15th we met many thousands of Russians in retreat. They were in good order, and under the perfect control of their officers; but still they were defeated troops, and showed by their sullen demeanour that they knew it. We were drawn up in quarter-column to let them pass, which they took three hours to do. Towards the close of the day we came up with 7000 Cossacks who were covering their retreat.

Up to now we had heard no sounds of battle; but on the 16th, at dawn, the noise of heavy firing was audible a long way ahead. By order of a Staff Officer, we hurried along in the direction of this sound; but by nightfall it was not perceptibly nearer, though we met many small detachments of cavalry and infantry, who had evidently passed through a rough experience. Many were wounded and bandaged; many more had undressed hurts which were still bleeding. Several were being led, or carried, on the backs of comrades; and soon we began to pass long strings of waggons full of injured, which left long trails of blood on the road.

Then we came to a village where artillery were halted, and were ordered to assist in putting the houses into a state of defence. The poor people of the place had already fled, probably long previously. I never heard the name of this village; none of our people knew it: and there was a sad lack of maps. Few, except officers of rank and those on the Staff, possessed them; and the few I saw in the possession of subaltern officers were very defective, and did not give the names of more than a third of the places we found on the ground. A good map which I obtained with much trouble at Skyermevice was taken from me; and, acting on the advice of a friend, I did not attempt to obtain another. The possession of such papers was liable to be misinterpreted; and the spy-fever was a complaint not altogether unknown in the Russian Army.

During the night we learned that it was the Russian Tenth Army which had been very roughly handled by the foe. There was said to have been more than a week's incessant fighting; and the exhausted appearance of the retreating troops bore out the truth of the statement. They had with them a great many wounded; and their general aspect showed that their losses must have been terrible. Their depleted ranks proved that. Probably a third of the entire army had perished, or been captured. The defeat was the more galling, as it was asserted that the Germans who had inflicted it were boys, and a scratch lot of invalids who were supposed to have been finally discharged from service in the Prussian Army: and this rabble lot was commanded by the Kaiser himself. I could hardly believe this last assertion, as I did not believe William had got a victory in him.

Some of the retreating troops, who had been in reserve, and were not much shaken, stopped to share in the defence of the position we had taken up. We got well under cover in spite of the hard frost; but there was not much barbed wire available for the outer defences.

No Germans appeared near us until the 18th, when two regiments of infantry and two of cavalry came and had a look at us, though they took care not to afford much of a mark for our guns. It was the advanced guard of a much larger force, though I am unable to state the numbers. At least sixty guns opened on our village alone; and other artillery could be heard in every direction for many miles around.

Nor do I know our own numbers. I heard that the entire Eighth Army was in line, with the left flank resting on the Vistula. The village we were defending was about thirteen versts from the river; and I can say that the ground between us and the right bank of the Vistula was very strongly held, its weak point being that effective trenches could not be made in the time at our disposal; but this was a circumstance that hurt the Germans as much as it did us, and perhaps more, as we shall see presently. How far the line of battle extended to the right I do not know. It stretched as far as a hamlet called Vilstick, and from thence to Biatzun, seventy versts from the river bank. There must, therefore, have been at least 300,000 men on this alignment; and more likely there were nearly double that number. Circumstances occurred which rendered it desirable that I should not be too precise in inquiring about numbers, distances and names of places. These were often only known to officers of rank and those high in command. Regimental officers were as ignorant as I was, and, like me, had to rely on guessing, surmising and the use of their own sharp eyes. More than once my "inquiring mind" would have placed me in an awkward fix had not my hatred of Germany and things German been beyond a doubt.

As to the Germans, I learned from prisoners, corroborated by other evidence, that multitudes of them came over the frontiers through Inowraklow, Golloob, Lauten, and particularly from Thorn. Their strength was put at 500,000, and I am convinced that it was not under that number. All these were new troops. It contained a corps of what were called "Guards"; but the old guards were destroyed long before this time; and though their ranks had been recruited they were not in this part of the war area.[3] The new Guards were mostly students from universities and schools, with a sprinkling of veterans who had been from ten to thirty years out of the service, even as Landwehr. There were regiments of old men, regiments of boys under twenty years; and of these the lads were viperish little wretches, as thirsty for blood as any of the older Huns.

[3] They were probably the "Guard Reserve Corps." They wore the distinctive uniform of "Guards" when in parade dress.

The advanced guard of Germans having fallen back, we (in the village, I mean) were subjected to a cannonade, the object of which seemed to be to ascertain the range, or induce us to show our strength in artillery by making a reply. A couple of hundred shells were thrown at us, and knocked down a few houses, and set fire to two.

Our Cossacks seem to have discovered that these guns were not well supported; for they charged them, and captured four, besides spearing, or sabring, a lot of the gunners. That gave us peace for the rest of the night.

There was a scarcity of water in the village, and we were compelled to let the two houses burn out. It was with difficulty we prevented the fire from spreading, and with still greater difficulty rescued a bed-ridden cripple from one of the blazing houses. He had been left behind when the inhabitants fled, and declared that there were three or four children hiding in the house. If so they were burnt to death, poor little creatures: not the only instance of the kind that came under my notice during this horrid war.

Just before dawn, their favourite hour for delivering an assault, the enemy rushed up to the village in great numbers; and, of course, in closely formed masses. It was a surprise to our troops: for the Germans were upon our outposts before they were discovered. The pickets fired on them; and those that escaped ran in behind the barricades we had formed. Hundreds of men were sleeping in the loop-holed houses; and these saved the day: for the enemy could not get at them, and they were shot down in great numbers by rifle and machine-gun fire, and from a building in the centre of the hamlet (a public hall of some kind) which commanded the cross-streets, and was admirably placed for defence. But the fight was a long and stubborn one, lasting nearly three hours; and thousands of the enemy came up to support their first line of assault. It was this really that undid them: for the Russian Commander, perceiving that the hamlet was becoming of great importance, and that its loss would probably mean a defeat of the Russians, sent very strong reinforcements, as well as opened a heavy artillery fire on the German supports. Finally, about 8,000 infantry charged through the place, killing most of the enemy who had got into the streets, and driving off the whole herd of them, with a loss of 10,000 in killed and wounded, and about 400 unhurt prisoners.

As the enemy retired, the Cossacks, with a regiment of dragoons, again charged them; and destroyed some hundreds more. They went too far, however, got under a fire of case-shot, and lost a considerable number of men and horses.

The close of the day was devoted to a tremendous fire of artillery on both sides, and not a house was left standing in our hamlet; and as we had no trenches to take shelter in, our losses were severe. We were ordered to fall back about a verst, though without breaking the line; and took post behind a wood, the trees of which we felled to form an abattis. In this we left a strong support, while at dawn we tried the German tactics, and advanced to make an assault on their position.

We had, however, three versts to cover, and we found their outposts well advanced; so that we did not succeed in surprising them. The alarm was soon given; and they opened fire with shrapnel and case, sweeping the plain with a storm of metal, and causing us great loss, though we did not follow their foolish tactics of advancing in close columns. On the contrary, we spread out fan-wise, in imitation of the Cossacks, closing in gradually as we ran. Most of the enemy's outposts were overtaken, and bayoneted to a man, notwithstanding their appeals for mercy. But when we came to their lines, we found that they had piled up snow, and beaten it down hard, to make a breastwork; and hidden a network of barbed wire under loose snow in front of their position. We got on this before we discovered it, and the results were terrible. It was impossible to do anything, or to live under such a fire as was poured upon us. The brigade, formed of the two regiments to which we were attached, broke and fled, leaving two-thirds of their number behind. When we got back to our own position, and saw how many friends, and familiar faces, were missing, many of the men broke down and wept bitterly. Captain Sawmine was wounded in three places; but he kept on his feet, and refused to quit his company.

A great gloom settled on our division: for it became known, somehow or other, that a great disaster had overtaken the Tenth Army (not _army corps_); and that one entire corps of it had been cut to pieces. It was said that a great gap had been made in our line, and that the Germans were rushing forward to cut off 100,000 men. The news did not alarm us so much as create anger. Nobody doubted the correctness of the rumour; especially when the Germans shouted it to our outposts; and dropped messages, containing the information, from aeroplanes.

It was further confirmed the next day by the orders which we received to fall back as rapidly as was consistent with the safety of the division. Four batteries of artillery and 1,500 Cossacks came to cover our retreat; but the Germans pressed us so hard that we turned and fought a desperate rear-guard battle. The foe had to meet "angry fellows" with a vengeance; and they got such a lesson that towards evening they permitted us to march off in parade order without daring to follow us one yard. They had more than doubled us in numbers and guns; and it must seem incredible to people who did not actually witness the operations that such tremendous and frequent losses could be sustained by any army which continued to exist in the field. I can only give my assurance that I fully believe all I state; and think I understate, rather than exaggerate, the given numbers of killed, wounded and prisoners. That such terrible losses should not incapacitate the armies engaged shows the enormous resources they had in men and material: and, so far as concerns Germany, I am convinced, in money too.

From the first I considered it a pity that Russia could not put more men in the field. She might have placed 12,000,000 young and vigorous men on the Russian-Austrian frontiers; but she was quite incapable of finding transport, food and material, or the proper proportion of artillery, for such a vast host: and this is where she failed. More money, and a better system of railways, and the end of Germany would have come within six months of the outbreak of the war.

Nor is much to be said in favour of my own country. The wealth, and the best blood of England, are being frittered away in partial operations. We can effect no real progress with 250,000 or 300,000 men. At least 2,000,000 should be in the field--3,000,000 would be better. How are the men to be got without conscription? Restore the old militia, which ought never to have been abolished; and ballot for it. Press-gangs, if necessary. Better do this than perish as a nation, which is what we are in imminent danger of doing. The people who cannot see this will not see it until, perhaps, they are forced to see it--a trifle too late.

England is not a military nation in the usual sense of the words. Nowadays a first-class Power _must be a military nation_, or go to the wall. What makes a military nation? Having millions of men, _fully armed and equipped_, ready for action at _one hour's notice_. England will not have this! Then some bad day she will go to the wall, and go there pretty quickly. This is how nations will cease to be nations in future. Ten billion shells, a hundred billion cartridges. "All dead stock," says the financier. "What dreadful wickedness to waste so much money on munitions!" says the economist. But when war comes on a large scale the shells and cartridges have to be found at double and treble cost. It is a sad way of spending huge sums of money; but it is the only real "National Insurance": the only way of securing real peace and liberty. And whatever happens, and whatever is the consequence, I, for one, will not live under the régime of such a scoundrel as the Hell-Hound of Berlin--a wretch who, while posing as a God-fearing man, has brought heart-torment on millions of better men than himself. And these are not the words of passion. I am not a fiery boy. I am an old man, a grey-haired veteran. Read it with shame you young and able-bodied who have failed your country in her hour of peril. Your best excuse is that you do not realize how real and how near the danger is. Isolated acts of heroism are not victories. Our little army is a splendid little army, but it is a little army. One serious disaster to it, and in a week this country might be in the hands of the enemy from Land's End to John o' Groats. In such a case our only hope would be the Navy. Sole hopes, like last shillings, are things to be deprecated.