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 _débâcle_, 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.