Part 5

Lieutenant Forshaw hailed from the same part of England as the brave young officer of whom we have just read. He belonged to the Manchester Territorials, and he won the Cross in trench fighting against the Turks. His station was at an important corner which was to be held at all costs; and in holding it Forshaw showed what is perhaps a higher form of courage than impulse--that of stern unflinching endurance.

By his spirit and example he encouraged his men to hold their own against repeated and savage attacks of the enemy. He set them an example of heroism by his cool disregard for danger. At the end of 24 hours’ continuous fighting his men were relieved; but he offered to go on directing operations, and his offer was accepted.

For another 17 hours he repeatedly threw bombs at the enemy, lighting the fuses with a cigarette. He was choked by acid fumes, bruised by fragments of shell, and scarcely able to lift his arm for weariness, but he “stuck it” until the position was safe.

“It was due to his personal example, magnificent courage and endurance,” said his superiors, “that this very important corner was held.” When a brave man is in a tight place of any kind he will do well to remember “Forshaw’s corner.”

THE STORY OF EDITH CAVELL

There is a lofty, snow-clad peak in the Canadian Rockies which is known by the name of Mount Edith Cavell. It was named in the year 1915 to enshrine the memory of a noble woman who laid down her life for the love of humanity. She was an English patriot, but, as we shall see as we go on with her story, she was much more than that.

Edith Cavell was a hospital nurse who was trained in London and went to Belgium in 1900 to take charge of a training school for nurses in a suburb of Brussels. She threw herself into her work with great devotion and in a few years made it a real success. Then the war began and the Germans marched into Brussels as victors; but Miss Cavell was allowed to stay at her hospital.

The Germans seemed to know that she might be useful even to their own men; and they were not mistaken. The course of events brought many German wounded to Brussels and these men received the same care as the Belgian wounded. All hurt or sick men were the same to Edith Cavell, and her one aim was to get them well again.

After the retreat from Mons and from Namur, a number of French and English soldiers were cut off from the main army and were left behind in Belgium. These men hid themselves in the woods or in the ruins of shattered towns, watching for an opportunity to escape either into France or Holland. Some of them were captured by the Germans, and many were shot at once without any form of trial. Others were taken care of by the country people and many stories could be told, and probably will be told in the future, of the adventures of these refugees in their own land.

There were many Belgians, too, who had been left behind after the earlier battles of the war, and these poor fugitives in their native land had the same experiences. Some were taken and instantly shot; others were dressed in civilian clothing and given work on the land, and when the chance came were helped across the frontier into Holland. Many were shot by the German guards as they made their last dash for freedom across the barbed-wire fence which marked off Holland from Belgium.

There was constant movement among the English, French, and Belgians to get away. Many of them had been brought into touch with Miss Cavell at one or other of her hospitals and they seem to have begged for her help. She had means of helping them and she did not hesitate to use them. She did not count the cost to herself. Here were men who, if taken, would most probably be shot out of hand. What could a good woman do but help them to escape? She would thereby break the German military law, but she would be faithful to the higher law of kindness.

It was afterwards told against her by the Germans that she helped 130 men to leave Belgium. We do not know whether this number is correct, but if it were halved the record would still be a proud one.

After a time the Germans began to be suspicious of Miss Cavell. Spies were ordered to watch her. One of these men, it is said, went to ask her to help him to leave the country; she listened to his story, promised to help him, and then in accordance with his “duty” he betrayed her to his higher officers. She was made a prisoner on the 5th of August 1915.

In the military prison she was closely confined and no one was allowed to see her. She was considered a most dangerous person, as indeed she was when it was a question of mercy and pity before obedience to a brutal law. The Germans tell that she made no effort to hide or excuse the fact that she had helped men to escape from the country. She had acted as she did, knowing full well that she was breaking the rule of the Germans. It was said that she fully expected to be caught some day and to suffer punishment, but that she thought it would take the form of imprisonment for a time.

There was living in Brussels at this time a Mr. Brand Whitlock who was American Minister, that is to say, he was in charge of American affairs in Belgium. As soon as he heard that Miss Cavell had been arrested, he wrote to the German officers and did all he could to get a fair trial for the lady. The Germans said that no one would be allowed to see Miss Cavell, but that she should have a trial in accordance with the soldier’s law.

Mr. Whitlock was told that Miss Cavell had said that she was “guilty”; that she had hidden in her house French, English, and Belgians who were anxious to get away from Belgium; and that she had given them money and other help, sometimes providing guides to conduct them to the frontier.

Her trial began on the 7th October, and thirty-four other prisoners were tried with her. The language used in the court was German, and when a question was put to Miss Cavell it was translated into French, with which she was familiar. She was allowed to have a lawyer to speak in her defence, but she did not see him until the day of the trial, so that his help was of no great service to her. She had, however, confessed her “fault,” so that it did not matter. She probably thought of cases in English military history where women had been found guilty of military offences and had been imprisoned; and the punishment seemed light when she thought of the young lives that she had saved and of the mothers and sisters and sweethearts who would bless her name until their dying day.

Perhaps she was as much surprised as were many other people when she was sentenced to die. Before sentence was passed upon her she was asked why she had helped soldiers to go to England. She replied quite simply that she thought if she had not done so they would have been shot by the Germans; and she considered she only did her duty to her country in saving their lives. The order of the court was that she should be shot the next morning at two o’clock.

During the following evening the American Minister made almost frantic efforts to save her life. He was nobly helped by the Spanish Minister, but all their efforts were of no avail. Mr. Gahan, the British chaplain in Brussels, was, however, allowed to see Miss Cavell in her prison.

“I found her,” he afterwards wrote, “perfectly calm and resigned. She said that she wished her friends to know that she willingly gave her life for her country and said, ‘I have no fear nor shrinking; I have seen death so often that it is not strange or fearful to me.’

“She further said, ‘I thank God for this ten weeks’ quiet before the end. Life has always been hurried and full of difficulty. This time of rest has been a great mercy. They have all been very kind to me here. But this I would say, standing as I do in view of God and eternity, I realise that patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred or bitterness towards any one.’

“We sat quietly talking until it was time for me to go. She gave me parting messages for relations and friends. Then I said, ‘Good-bye,’ and she smiled and said, ‘We shall meet again.’”

Next morning she was shot. The place of her burial was kept secret, for the Germans feared that the Belgians would make it a rallying place for rebellion. In this way they showed that they knew they had acted not only inhumanly but foolishly.

The execution of Edith Cavell roused great anger throughout the world, except of course in Germany. British and French soldiers fought with greater courage with her name upon their lips. From every civilised country came protests against the shooting of a woman whose only military offence was that she had followed the promptings of a tender heart.

Her story was told in every British school and the Education Minister of France gave orders that the teachers of Paris should also tell it to their pupils. “The great and sublime figure of Edith Cavell,” he said, “stands forth among the black horrors of the war as a living image of outraged humanity.” Her death and the way it was regarded in Germany reminded the Allies once again that in fighting Germany they were fighting barbarism and the spirit which aims at “success” at any price.

In our just anger at the executioners of this noble lady let us not miss the true lesson of her splendid life and her heroic death.

She loved England first as became an Englishwoman. That was made quite clear in all that she said and did. She loved the friends of England too--all those who were fighting for the same great cause. That also was perfectly clear.

But mark once more that noble utterance spoken on the last evening of her life, “This I would say, standing as I do in view of God and eternity, _I realise that patriotism is not enough_. I must have no hatred or bitterness towards any one.”

We know that she had helped German wounded and had shown them all the care and tenderness that the sight of a suffering man could arouse in her. She did this, not because she had any desire to help the rulers of Germany whose ways she hated, but because the men were human beings.

Her kindness to German wounded and her last words which are twice quoted above were her woman’s protest against the folly and the wickedness of all war. She could put aside with a quiet smile the pompous military rule which laid down that certain things were to be done because men were living in a state of war. She followed a higher rule, the law of pity and of mercy, remembering the words of the great poet of her beloved country:

“Earthly power doth then show likest God’s When mercy seasons justice.”

JACK CORNWELL, THE BOY WHO “CARRIED ON”

One day, in the summer of 1917, a group of people were standing before a large picture which was hung upon the wall of one of the rooms in the Royal Academy.

The painting showed a wounded sailor-boy standing on the deck of a warship near the shield of a naval gun while shells were bursting all round him, and the gun’s crew were lying dead or wounded at his feet.

“What did he do?” asked a lady after looking closely at the picture for some time. “Oh,” said a gentleman who was with her, “he just stuck it, you know.” That was all that the boy had done, “just stuck it” at the post of honour, although hurt so cruelly that he afterwards died.

But his simple action had been enough to rouse the admiration of the whole British Empire, to win for him the Victoria Cross, and to afford an example to every boy and man in the British Navy. There were many brave deeds done in the Battle of Jutland, but when Admiral Beatty afterwards made out his report it was John Travers Cornwell whom he picked out as at least one glorious example.

The boy won his Cross at the Battle of Jutland Bank, which began in the afternoon of Wednesday, May 31st, of the year 1916. This fight was one of the most important naval battles of the Great War and might have been as momentous as Trafalgar if the Germans had not retired when Admiral Jellicoe came up to the aid of Admiral Beatty with the Grand Fleet.

We can form some idea of the terrible nature of the battle from the British losses. These included six of the larger ships and eight destroyers, as well as a large number of brave British sailors. But the German losses were very much heavier, both in ships and men.

One of the British ships engaged in the fight was H.M.S. _Chester_, the crew of which included the boy John Travers Cornwell, whose age was about 16½ years. He belonged to a party whose duty it was to work one of the guns, and during the first part of the fighting he received a very bad wound.

But he stayed at his post in a most exposed position, and went quietly on with his work though the men of the gun crew fell, one by one, dead or dying around him. He was hurt again and again, but he did not give up. He stood waiting for orders with the speaking tube at his ears, until the fight was over, when he was taken tenderly below.

His captain afterwards wrote of him to his mother:--“The wounds which resulted in his death were received in the first few minutes of the action. He remained steady at his most exposed post at the gun, waiting for orders.... He felt that he might be needed--as indeed he might have been--so he stayed there, standing and waiting under heavy fire, with just his own brave heart and God’s help to support him.”

After the battle the boy was taken to a hospital at Grimsby. He was attended with the greatest care, but his wounds were too severe to be cured. Cornwell had indeed been “faithful unto death.”

Before he died some one asked him what he and his mates were doing during that terrible time. “Oh,” said the dying boy, “we were just carrying on.”

HEROES OF LOOS

Let us begin with a heroine if only to remind ourselves that it was not only the British who showed the most wonderful heroism on the Western Front, but the French also, not excluding the French women and girls. When the British re-took the French town of Loos in the autumn of 1915, they found a ready helper in a French girl of seventeen years named Emilienne Moreau, who had lived there during the German occupation.

She shared the work which women did so nobly during the Great War, that of nursing the wounded. This was done under the most trying conditions, for the fighting was still going on and all was din and confusion around her. In spite of the heavy bombardment, some of the people of Loos had stayed behind in their shattered houses; and one of the first duties of our troops on entering the town was to carry terrified women and children into places of cover.

Emilienne Moreau did more than tend the wounded. She took a hand in the fighting, young as she was. The Germans fought every foot of the way, but she helped them to go. She killed no less than five of them by throwing hand grenades and using a revolver. At a later date she was decorated by a French general with the Military Cross, which might be described as the V.C. of France.

The fighting in this quarter was marked by the usual deeds of heroism which one had come to expect from British troops. At one place the British attacked, but were forced to fall back. They took shelter behind a parapet, and when they had time to think of what had happened, Captain Kerr of the R.A.M.C. looked over the top of the barrier and saw two wounded men lying in the open. The enemy were at close range and were firing heavily; but Captain Kerr took the hero’s chance, jumped over the parapet, and brought both the men to a place of safety.

Our men were gassed in this engagement, and some of the most heroic and desperate fighting was done by soldiers suffering from the effects of the hideous yellow cloud. The King’s Own Scottish Borderers were shaken by the gas and seemed to waver in their trenches. Piper Daniel Laidlaw saw this and at once jumped upon the parapet, careless of his life.

Then he marched up and down, blowing his pipes with great vigour. The men lifted their heads. The sound of the pipes seemed to rouse them to fresh efforts. They leapt from the ditch “over the top” and rushed to the attack as if driven by madness. But a bullet found Piper Laidlaw and he fell wounded. His work was done, however, and he lived to receive the Victoria Cross as a reward for his bravery.

Meanwhile, officers and men in every part of the field were “carrying on” in the most wonderful way. Lieutenant Hollwey’s business was to lay a telephone wire and to do so under heavy fire. He had not gone far before he was wounded in the leg. He took little notice of the wound and went steadily on with his work, until another bullet fractured his leg. Then he lay down and waited for no less than sixteen hours. Men were so desperately busy all round him that he refused to be helped while more important work was to be done.

Sergeant Wells immediately took charge of his platoon when the officer in command had been killed, and the men followed him to within a short distance of the German barbed wire. As they ran across the open, many were killed and wounded, and when Wells was last seen he was shouting to his men to pull themselves together and rush the German line. The fire was, however, too severe, and the men were forced to take cover; but the brave sergeant had done all that man could do and had given his life as an offering to duty.

The Germans had laid mines under the church tower of Loos and shells were bursting round it. At any moment the mines might explode and bring down the masonry upon the heads of our men. So Major Blogg of the Royal Engineers went forward through the storm of shells, found the fuse and cut it in two.

Many heroic deeds were done amongst the barbed wire in that battle. At one place the Royal Warwicks were stopped by an entanglement when they were near to the first line of German trenches. It was daylight and the men were in a very exposed place while shells and bullets whistled round them. Then Private Vickers stood up in his place and coolly cut the wire in several points so that his comrades were able to force their way through.

So the “great game” went on until Loos was finally and completely in British hands, after a brave resistance by our determined foes.

HOW MOORHOUSE BROUGHT IN HIS REPORT

The railway at Courtrai was a very important part of the German lines of communication; but it was not out of reach of the Allied airmen. Orders were sent out that the line at this place was to be destroyed and W. B. R. Moorhouse was chosen to do the work.

His machine was a biplane and he was to go alone so as to be able to carry as much ammunition as possible. The risks did not trouble him, for he was of the type of airman that asks for risk as a kind of spice to the adventure.

Off he flew, and before long he came within sight of the junction at Courtrai. After a while, he switched off his engine and descended to a height of about 250 feet above the ground. By this time he had been sighted by the German gunners and riflemen, and at this low altitude he made an easy mark.

Carefully guiding his machine to a position above the railway points, he let fall a large bomb. It hit the mark at which he aimed and he knew that he had done enough damage to delay the German movements for some time. Then he began to think about his return.

He turned the nose of his machine skywards and began to climb. Up, up he went, while the bullets whistled and the shells burst around him. But one of the bullets found its mark. He was struck in the thigh and it was not long before he knew that his wound would cost him his life. But he had his report to make and he pulled himself together for the last effort.

It was hard to go on that lonely journey. Blood was flowing from his wound, and twice he felt everything turn black and cold sweats break out upon him. But he stuck gamely to his task and managed somehow to keep the control of his craft.

The distance back to his own lines was about forty miles, and in spite of his wound he landed easily and without mishap. Then he made his report to those who had sent him out, and only just in time; for it was necessary to carry him off to the hospital, where he died after a short time. The Cross was afterwards awarded to him for this feat of endurance and courage.

LORAINE’S FIGHT IN THE AIR

The airmen might be described as the “eyes of the army.” They go up over the enemy’s lines and find out what is going on; then they come back--if they escape the guns of the enemy--and make their reports to the British officers.

One day in November 1915, Captain Robert Loraine set out with an observer to do some work of this kind. He was well used to the task and had found out many things of great use to the commanding officers.

After a time he saw an enemy machine ahead of him and moved quickly within range. Both machines opened fire at the same moment, and blazed away at each other for some time. Then Loraine’s gun and that of his companion both got out of order, and the two men were at the mercy of the Germans.

But only for a short time; Loraine’s companion managed to get his gun to work again, and kept up a brisk reply to the German fire. All at once the German “bus” dived, and Loraine dived after it. Then a flame leapt up from the enemy aeroplane and in a moment it was falling to the earth, a burning wreck.

Loraine rose once more and in a few moments saw another German plane ahead of him. His observer was by this time almost frozen, but the two men took the risk and chased the new foe with the intention of giving battle. The German paused as if to make off, then accepted the challenge, and the battle was joined.

It lasted for about five minutes, and then the German pilot was hit and the second machine fell to the ground. By this time Loraine’s observer was feeling very much warmer and ready to deal with any number of enemy aircraft.

All at once, however, the engine of the British machine gave out. There was nothing for it but to come down to earth and that within the German lines! This was done without mishap, and then the two men pushed their machine towards the British lines, keeping a sharp lookout meanwhile for enemy snipers.

By and by they came to the place where the second German aeroplane had fallen. They found that the pilot was dead and his companion very severely wounded. Loraine stayed long enough to take from the German machine all that might prove useful to himself, and then set out again to take his “prisoner” to hospital. The strange little party reached the British lines without further adventure and the German was soon in the hands of the British Red Cross.

He was carefully tended, and when he had been made as comfortable as possible he asked how soon he would be taken to be tortured!

Loraine’s adventure was typical of the kind of work that went on in the air during all the operations of the Western Front. As in the days of King Arthur of olden story--

“Every morning brought a noble chance.”

“A GLORIOUS BAND”

“The Son of God goes forth to war, A kingly crown to gain; His blood-red banner streams afar: Who follows in His train?”

The words of the old soldiers’ hymn must often have come into the minds of our brave men as they fought and died to win freedom for the world. And, indeed, they were doing no less than this; for all men knew that if the Germans were not beaten there would be no more real freedom for mankind.

There was one day in the month of September of the year 1916 when the King granted no less than twenty Victoria Crosses. Some of them could not be worn by the brave men who had won them for they had been “faithful unto death”; and their medals were sent to those whom they had left behind to mourn for them and to rejoice when they forgot their sorrow that they had died so nobly.

The newspaper on the following morning was a matter for gladness and sadness; for it contained a splendid record of heroic deeds which made one feel proud to be a Briton.