Friday, 15 June 2018

100 Years ago




Enemy brought to a halt

Looking back on the week, which has been one of considerable anxiety, one may say that the offensive which began on Sunday, though it has brought the enemy to within about five miles of Compiègne and farther east has seen the French retire from the salient between the Oise and the Aisne, has been, on the whole, a decided disappointment to the German High Command. It has lasted a shorter time than any of the others, and has resulted in a much smaller advance. For the moment this particular road to Paris is barred.
There is a note of satisfaction in Paris today at the turn events have taken. No one is foolish enough to imagine that the enemy will accept as final this check to his operations, but the idea is generally expressed in the Press that he will seek out some other point for his next blow. Arrangements for the defence of Paris and for its possible evacuation are, nevertheless, being pushed forward. The authorities have already removed to safety the greater part of the national art collections. The galleries of the Louvre have for the most part become empty corridors, with here and there the great bulk of some sandbagged statue. The Venus of Milo has gone, the Winged Victory is covered with sandbags, and the vaulted cellars are filled with a mixed company of antiquities.
Documents in French hands point eloquently to the sanguinary nature of the Montdidier-Noyon battle. The finest “shock” troops of the enemy have suffered badly, some units have been wiped out, and the reserves have been cut into so freely that the Crown Prince has had to borrow divisions from his Bavarian cousin. One of these documents runs as follows: “State of losses of the 11th company, 34th Regiment, June 11, 7pm, remaining in front line — one officer, three non-commissioned officers, and eight men. State of losses of the 10th company, 34th Regiment, same date, trench effectives — one officer, one non- commissioned officer, and three men, remainder dead, wounded, or missing. Fighting effectives — one officer, one non-commissioned officer, and six men, with one light machine-gun. I have run out of munitions and grenades. The enemy is 100 yards from us. I beg urgently for reinforcements and munitions.”
https://www.thetimes.co.uk/past-six-days/2018-06-14/register/enemys-fight-for-time-k9287hwp5


Enemy’s fight for time

The battle is raging over a 50-mile front from the Avre to the Clignon. It is part of the great German battle against time. It began on a foggy morning in March, it is being fought out now in June under a blazing sun and skies of cloudless blue. When they brought their troops out of the trenches into the open it was to end the war, because end it they must without delay, or inevitably lose it. For men who wanted to advance in a hurry the conditions could not have been better. As the three months draw to an end, after all their efforts and all their losses, and in spite of all their reinforcements they have come up with a bump against the forest barrier of Compiègne, and Paris and the quick end of the war are still a very long way off. They have come up against the forests of Compiègne, and, not quite for the first time, against the soldiers of France.
The enemy is still advancing, but much more slowly. Except for the infernal gases that he has added to the arsenal and barbarities of war, the fighting has become once more like the fighting of all the ages. It is man against man, out in the open. Attackers and counter-attackers, having hardly any trenches to depend on, make use of the natural cover of trees and houses and folds in the ground. Creeping unseen through bushes and fields of waving corn, they try to get up to the enemy and spring on him unawares.
Some German troops on one of these days added the refinement of draping their helmets with grass and leaves. When they can they dig, but that is not often. The time is too short, the enemy is too near. A great deal of the fighting is hand-to-hand, and will be now, in all probability, till the end. Skirmishing is once more in fashion, and scouting and tracking and all the arts of primitive fighting have come into their own again.
And yet all the time, side by side with them, the terrible offensive weapons and machines and scientific contrivances of modern warfare ply their deadly business. Over the green fields, like destroyers on a calm sea, the Tanks plough clumsily into action up hill and down dale, between ranks of the fighting men, the aeroplanes hum unceasingly overhead. And always there is the roar of guns and shells and the shattering rattle of the machine-guns, the weapon that has proved itself the deadliest of them all.


https://www.thetimes.co.uk/past-six-days/2018-06-13/register/americans-days-of-open-warfare-crb7fswwx


Americans’ days of open warfare

American Army, June 11. Summing up the nine days’ military operations in the area to the right, left, and south of Chateau-Thierry American infantrymen and Marines have advanced from 1½ miles to 2½ miles, and acting with the French, have taken some 400 prisoners, besides three heavy 7in trench mortars and a goodly quantity of machine-guns. One infantry unit has progressed savagely in the direction of Vaux, another infantry unit has made progress towards La Roche, while Marines now occupy the controlling portion of the Bois de Belleau.
Compared with the large-scale fighting which has marked this war the achievements of the Americans are of minor importance; yet these operations give proof on a miniature plan of the stamina of our troops, their push, tenacity, and boldness in open warfare. Not once did they trench in their line, but kept up a steady progress forward. In the advance in the Bois de Belleau — a process of infiltration, in other words Indian warfare — our boys were fighting as did their ancestors. Small groups of men would advance to right and left, creeping over rocks and slipping from tree to tree, through ferns and tall grass. Thus it was that the German Kugelspritze nests, or machine-gun positions, were surrounded and cut off. I visited the area, and the forest echoed with the low clicking of soldiers’ equipment, the stealthy rustling of branches, and the twitter of alarmed birds when rifles cracked or machine-guns sprayed. Overhead the airmen droned along their course, fleecy white puffs of shrapnel smoke breaking about them. Our men when the enemy aeroplanes passed above, were as frozen to quiet as the finches and field mice of the hedgerows when they perceive the passing shadow of a hovering hawk.
At a signal new groups of men scurried forward under cover of trees, foliage, and rocks. Paths of torn leaves or the sound of “put-put-put” revealed the presence of enemy machine-guns. Then clods of earth or splinters of stone were observed flying upward. The springtime freshness of the woods was slashed to ribbons, rent and riddled to tatters, as the Americans crept northward. A lieutenant said to me, “This is real fighting, just as we read about it in the school books. It is our game, and Fritz knows it.”


https://www.thetimes.co.uk/past-six-days/2018-06-12/register/the-third-plague-of-egypt-hmxwqflvt


The third plague of Egypt

We publish today a letter from a correspondent who warns us of the danger, both to the troops in France and to the public at home, which arises out of the prevalence of lice. After recalling the fact that both typhus fever and relapsing fever are louse-borne diseases, our correspondent goes on to discuss trench fever, a new malady which, as has been established by Major Byam (working under the direction of Sir David Bruce), is propagated by means of the dust-like excreta of lice. This virulent dust contaminates the clothing of infested soldiers, and may, in the absence of precautions, be brought by men on leave into England, with consequences likely to be disastrous. Few, we imagine, will read of the risk of this infection without recalling the Bible story of the plague of lice, the third plague of Egypt. Indeed, between the ancient narrative and these most recent scientific findings there is an analogy which, if not exact, is at least interesting: “for Aaron stretched out his hand with his rod, and smote the dust of the earth and it became lice in man and in beast; all the dust of the land became lice throughout all the land of Egypt.” In these days the lice become dangerous when they turn to dust. Our correspondent points out that the Lister Institute of Preventive Medicine, of which Sir David Bruce is chairman, took active measures to acquire knowledge of lice and the role they play in disease, and assisted the work on trench fever, financially and scientifically. He suggests, and we support his suggestion, that the Lister Institute should be invited forthwith to act as a scientific advisory body in a campaign against the scourge. The lice already in this country may become infected; active steps should therefore be taken to keep men free after their return home, and an inquiry should be made into louse distribution in our cities and country districts.
The recognition of trench fever is notoriously a difficult business, and consequently the policy pursued in regard to malaria — appointment of specialists to detect the disease and to organize the work of preventing its spread in this country — ought to be taken in hand at once. There is no time to be lost if further wastage of manpower is to be avoided and a serious danger to the health of the whole people averted.


https://www.thetimes.co.uk/past-six-days/2018-06-11/register/the-third-thrust-for-paris-hmk8d8pvj


june 11 1918

The third thrust for Paris

The enemy has again advanced, but his new thrust between Montdidier and Noyon is bringing no such easy gains as he reaped by the surprise attack of May 27. This time his move was foreseen, and measures to meet it were taken in good time. He has again gained ground, but the gain has not been great, and has cost him losses out of all proportion. Above all, so far as can be seen, he has not broken the Allied line at any point.
The general opinion in Paris yesterday seemed to be that the first moves in the third stage of the great Ludendorff offensive had not brought the enemy brilliant results. It was realized, of course, that the effort was not spent and that, for political as well as for military reasons, it was certain to be pressed with the utmost determination. But the breadth of the front on which the enemy is able to conduct his attacks has diminished from 60 miles in March and 30 miles in May, to less than 20 miles in June. The loss of the whole Noyon salient would not bring him materially nearer to Paris, for he would still have before him the difficult forest country from Compiegne to the Ourcq. This region is well fitted for defence, and the French artillery have carefully chosen their positions.
It is impossible for the French, as for ourselves, to deny that the situation becomes more serious as the enemy works his way towards the capital. The steadiness with which they face the facts continues to be one of the most hopeful elements in the whole position. The wonderful old Prime Minister is making all the preparations for defending Paris, and for carrying on the war and the Administration, should the city eventually be invested. M Clemenceau knows French history too well to forget what delay in taking them has cost on former occasions. He is carrying them out with the coolness and method with which a good seaman makes ready when the weather looks nasty. The storm may pass off, or it may break elsewhere, but it is his business to be prepared to meet it.
The American preparations in France are maturing apace. When they are complete, the superiority of numbers which gives the enemy his only advantage in the field will be gone for the rest of the war. It will have passed to the Allies, and the world will be in sight of a real peace.


https://www.thetimes.co.uk/past-six-days/2018-06-09/register/german-captors-taken-captive-6380tvj03


JUNE 9, 1918

German captors taken captive

The fortunes of war are strikingly illustrated by the experiences of Corporal Sidney W Rogers and Privates Raymond Howard and Frank Price Ridgeway, part of a platoon of Pioneers which was working on Friday up the sides of Hill 204, which commands the position held by the Germans east of Chateau-Thierry. They had been sent forward to get into liaison with the French but, instead, they were surrounded by a large group of Germans and captured. The first question they were asked was, “Are you English?” the Germans intimating that, if they were, they would be instantly shot. On learning that they were Americans, the clothing of the trio was searched by the Germans for cigarettes, and one big Brandenburger bit a corner off Rogers’s plug of chewing tobacco. For dinner the prisoners were given a composition of flour and water, a nauseating pastry compound containing no nourishment. The chevrons were cut off the sleeve of the corporal’s coat. About 3 o’clock on Saturday morning a German officer came up, and, speaking in excellent English, asked the Americans when and where they had landed in France, what towns they had been encamped in, and the identity of their unit — questions which the Americans refused to answer. With a guard of two enemy soldiers they started for the rear, and the next thing the trio knew was that they had walked into a French encampment, and the prisoners became captors of their keepers. The incident gives an idea of the tangled condition of the lines along the new front.
The French and Americans now hold part of Hill 204, and have dug trenches across it. Farther north, in the region of Belleau and beyond Bouresches, American Marines are constantly fighting. The ground is covered with large rocks, behind which the enemy have nests of machine guns.
Mr W Gibbons, of the Chicago Tribune, the first American correspondent to be wounded at the front, is now in hospital at Neuilly, Paris. He has lost his left eye, and suffered much injury to one of his arms through being hit by machine-gun fire. He was wounded while following a charge of the United States Marines and French soldiers near the town of Torcy.


https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/the-rush-stayed-5vd9xp5nc


The rush stayed

The German onrush has been stayed. Yesterday’s French reports announce a series of successful operations at points from the west of Noyon to Fontenoy, west of Soissons, and so across the Ourcq on both sides of the Clignon valley by Veuilly la Poterie and Torcy-Bouresches, where the Americans distinguished themselves, to Hill 204 west of Chateau-Thierry, retaken by the French. The Franco-Americans have pushed on to the eastern edge of Chezy, and both Veuilly la Poterie and Bouresches are in their hands. Farther away to the east it was our countrymen’s turn. They have regained Bligny, a village near Ville-en-Tardenois, where they had earlier established a footing, with heavy loss to the enemy.
All these local successes are useful, but they are only local. They cannot be accepted as proof that the enemy movement is at an end, or that the Allies have reached a secure defensive position. Still less do they indicate that General Foch has begun a great offensive, comparable to that by which he rolled back the enemy from the Marne in the autumn of 1914. As yet there are no signs at any point of a general German withdrawal. The Allied peoples have still in their ears the warnings of the Supreme War Council and of M Clemenceau. They will bear these in mind, if they are wise, and not be misled by the present check to the German offensive to suppose that the danger is over. The enemy has employed a very large number of divisions in this attack, and many of them must be used up, as his losses have been heavy. He has himself acknowledged that the defence became more desperate the more nearly he approached the Marne. That is always the case when an army “in being” is fighting a series of rearguard actions which bring it by progressive stages into touch with its advancing reinforcements. But it is well known to the Allies that, however short of reserves the Army of the Crown Prince may be, the Army of Prince Rupprecht on the Cambrai-St Quentin front has still a large number of fresh divisions. We may have a shrewd suspicion of where and when it will employ this great force, but however we judge the probabilities, we have no certain knowledge. That disadvantage is inevitable for the defence.


https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/dread-of-british-airmen-ng8m09v9v

Dread of British airmen

Of the immense effect of the work of the Royal Air Force we get new evidence daily. German troops coming up to the front have to take elaborate precautions to avoid observation and attack by our airmen with bombs and machine-guns. They are forbidden to march in formations of more than one company strength, and have rigid instructions about breaking formation and taking cover on an alarm of the approach of an Allied flying man.
In a captured letter written by a company commander of one of the Reserve Infantry Divisions the writer says: “It is beautiful weather here, but, owing to the numbers of enemy aeroplanes, one does not dare show one’s self out of doors.”
German aeroplanes may be disagreeably active at times, but they are a long way yet from making the young British officer, when in rest, stay inside his billet in fine weather for fear of being chased if he goes out. As a matter of fact, we hear of German airmen being sent out to drop bombs, and being punished for coming back with bombs undropped because they were afraid to cross our lines.
Here is an example of the thrilling experiences which may come in the day’s work of any of our flying men. One of our airmen went out, met a German, and shot him down, seeing him satisfactorily crash upon the ground. After having gone down to watch him, he “zoomed” up again and started home. He was on his way, when he felt a sudden blow on the left ankle, and found he was shot, having been attacked by an enemy triplane from behind. The shot had broken his ankle and also pierced his petrol tank, so that the engine stopped. He was at about 6,000ft, and started to plane down to try to cross the lines, and succeeded in just clearing the enemy front at a height of about 100ft, only to crash in No Man’s Land before he could reach our line. The Germans at once opened on him with a machine-gun, and, before he could extricate himself from the wreckage, succeeded in breaking his left arm. Thus crippled, with an arm and an ankle broken, he managed to roll on the ground into a slight depression, where he lay till some of our men crawled out to him and dragged him into safety, one of his rescuers being severely wounded in the operation.


https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/u-boats-off-america-2tb300bhp


U-boats off America

News was brought to the White House shortly after midday that enemy submarines were operating off the New Jersey coast, and had also sunk several small vessels to the south of Nantucket. American destroyers and submarine chasers have started in pursuit. Among the victims is the passenger steamer Carolina. The commander of the submarine which sank her made a great parade of his decision to treat Americans “humanly”. His humanity consisted in allowing the women, children, and crew, consisting of 331 people all told, 20 minutes in which to take their boats. The fact that a thunderstorm was brewing did not concern him. The hapless women and children drifted about all Sunday night and Monday. So far as I know 16 were drowned when a launch, into which 36 people crowded, capsized in the storm. Those who were adrift in the launch had a terrible experience. They managed to right their craft, and one by one 18 managed to clamber over the sides. When dawn came they perceived some distance away a girl clinging to lifebelts which supported the bodies of two drowned sailors. This lady was Miss Lillian Dickinson, of Arlington, who recently returned from driving an ambulance in France. She took a full share in rowing the launch, and the survivors testified that without her example they would have succumbed from exhaustion. 245 survivors were picked up by a schooner and eight others by a Russian barque. The Germans sank the Carolina by shellfire. The submarine is estimated to be 300ft long, and is said by the prisoners to have carried 6in guns and a crew of some 60 men. The officer who superintended the embarcation into the boats declared that he had spent several years in America, and “hated his job”, but added, war is war.
When the warrant officer of the submarine boarded the steamship Winneconne his first question was: “Are there any English on board, because if there are we are going to cut their throats?” The commander of the submarine told his prisoners that he had fuel and supplies for a month, and intended to stay in American waters. The crews of other ships sunk suffered great hardships before reaching a place of safety. They had no food, and were nearly wrecked in a thunderstorm.

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