the battles of the Marne, their activities will be shown as army corps: the Third Army Corps to the westward, under General Pulteney; the Second Army Corps, under Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien, and the First Army Corps to the eastward, under Sir Douglas Haig, all, of course, under the general direction of Sir John French.
The British had no means of knowing what was in front of them. There was only one way to find out—a way, alas, often costly, a way that in every campaign costs thousands of lives apparently fruitlessly, and that is a frontal attack. Down over the slopes of the southern bank, into the bright, smiling river valley, where the little white villages in the distance were hiding their dilapidated state, marched the British army. Not a sign of activity showed itself upon the farther shore. A summer haze obscured objects at a distance, but, shortly before nine o'clock, the German batteries opened fire with a roar that was appalling.
The Third Army Corps, after a brief artillery duel, advanced on Soissons to cover the work of the engineers who were building a pontoon bridge for the French troops. The German fire was deadly, yet though more than half their men fell, the engineers put the pontoon bridge across. German howitzer fire, from behind the ridge, however, soon destroyed the bridge. The Turcos crossed the river in rowboats and had a fierce but indecisive struggle in the streets of the medieval city. Meanwhile, with the failure of the pontoon bridge at Soissons, General Pulteney struck to the northeast along the road to Venizel. The bridge at that point had been blown up, but the British sappers repaired it sufficiently to set the Eleventh Brigade across, and even, despite the lurid hail of shot and shell, four regiments gathered at Bucy-de-Long by one o'clock on that Sunday, September 13, 1914. Over the heads of these courageous regiments towered the great hill of Vregny, a veritable Gibraltar of heavy guns with numerous machine guns along the wooded edge. There was no protection, and no shelter against the terrible German Maxim fire, so that the moment came when to attempt further advance meant instant annihilation. Still, under cover of the success of the Eleventh Brigade the engineers built a pontoon bridge at Venizel and the Twelfth Brigade crossed to Bucy-de-Long, with a number of the lighter artillery. As there was absolutely no shelter, to storm the height at that point was impossible, and to remain where they were was merely to court sudden death, so the Twelfth Brigade worked over the slopes to the ravine at Chipres, where they intrenched.
The task in front of the Second Army Corps was no less difficult. The bridge at Condé was too strongly defended to be taken by assault, as Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien speedily found out, so he divided his forces into two parts, one of which was directed at the village of Missy, two and one half miles west of Condé, while the other concentrated its attack on a crossing at the town of Vailly, three miles east of Condé. Both detachments made good their crossing, but the regiments that found themselves near Missy also realized that hasty, very hasty intrenchment was imperative, lest every one of them should be blown into kingdom come before half an hour had passed by. During the night some troops were rafted over, three men at a time, and these encamped near Missy. It was a false move. For sixteen days thereafter the British troops had to remain in their dugouts, a large part of the time without food or water. To show a head above the trench was sudden death.
The regiments that crossed the river at Vailly found themselves in even a worse plight. No sooner had they crossed than the bombardment began, and the Germans knew every range in the place accurately. More than that, the line of trenches was open to enfilade fire from a hidden battery, which did not unmask until the trench was filled with soldiers. This Eighth Brigade had to retire in disorder.
The Fifth Brigade, attached to the First Army Corps under Sir Douglas Haig, an Irish and Scotch group of regiments, were the most successful of all. The bridge at Pont Arcy had been destroyed, but still one of its girders spanned the stream. It would have been tricky walking, even under ordinary circumstances, but nerve racking to attempt, when from every hill and wood and point of land, Maxims, machine guns and a steady rifle fire are concentrated on the man crossing that one girder. By the afternoon, the engineers attached to the First Army Corps had also established a pontoon bridge, and the whole brigade crossed the river in the evening and dug itself in.
Late on Sunday afternoon, however, a weak spot showed itself in the German line and Sir John French threw the First Division of the First Army Corps across the river near Bourg. Some of the infantry crossed by a small pontoon bridge and a brigade of cavalry started to follow them. When they were in mid-stream, however, a terrific storm of fire smote them. The cavalry pushed on, but could not ride up the hill in the teeth of the bombardment. The infantry were eager to go, but nothing was to be gained by the move, so the cavalry returned over the pontoon, by a most extraordinary occurrence not having lost a single member in the three hours it had been scouting on the hostile side of the Aisne. The infantry intrenched themselves solidly to await the morning.
The main forces of the First Division were especially lucky. Using the canal aqueduct they made their way toward Bourg, and drove the Germans back toward the main ridge.
More than three-quarters of the summit of the ridge had been won, the entire Second Infantry Brigade was across, the Twenty-fifth Artillery Brigade was across, ready to support, and General Bulfin, instead of tiring his men by making them intrench there, ordered them to rest, throwing their outposts in front of the hamlet of Moulins.
This ended the first day's fighting on the battle of the Aisne. Of the Third Army Corps, a small body of men had reached Chipres. There they had been joined by a small force from the Second Army Corps. In the First Army a strong detachment dug itself in not far from Pont d'Arcy. The incomparably superior position of the Germans, their huge numbers, their possession of innumerable guns, made even this shaky tenure dangerous, though all held on. Sir John French had tested and found out the German strength and the result was not encouraging.
Although this repulse of the British army at every point was a decided victory for the German gunners, Field Marshal von Heeringen had been impressed by two things: the courage of the British attacking army, and the destructiveness of the French artillery on the south bank of the river. The German commander withdrew all his men from the advanced trenches on between the ridge and the river, keeping, however, strongly intrenched detachments of riflemen at all commanding points with powerful artillery as their support.
Sunday night was a veritable pandemonium of destruction and tumult. All night long, without cessation, the batteries of both sides, knowing exactly their opponents' range, fired perpetually. All night long searchlight bombs were thrown. All night long, golden and red and yellow streams of flame or the sudden jagged flash of an explosion lit up the black smoke of burning buildings and fields in the valley, or showed the white puff-like low clouds of the bursting shrapnel. Not for an instant did the roar diminish, not for a second was the kindly veil of night left unrent by a fissure of vengeful flame. Yet, all night long, as ceaselessly as the great guns poured out their angry fury, so did men pour out their indomitable will, and in that hell light of battle flame engineers labored to construct bridges, small bodies of troops moved forward to join their comrades in the trenches who had been able to make a footing the day before, and all night long, those ghastly yet merciful accompaniments of a battle field—the ambulance corps—carried on their work of relief. The searchlights swept up and down the valley, like great eyes that watched to give direction to the venom of war.
At three o'clock in the morning of Monday, September 14, 1914, two regiments were sent to capture a sugar factory strongly held by the enemy. That sugar factory became a maelstrom. Three more regiments had to be brought up and finally the guards, and even thus heavily overpowered, the Germans successfully defended it until noon. They sold their lives dearly—those defenders. That sugar factory stood on that Monday as did Hogoumont at Waterloo. It delayed the advance of the entire First Corps, but at four o'clock in the afternoon, Sir Douglas Haig ordered a general advance. The last afternoon and evening scored a distinct success for the English arms, and when at last it grew absolutely too dark to see, that corps held a position stretching from Troton to La Cour de Soupir. Its chief importance, however, was that it gave the Allies a strongly intrenched position on the plateau itself.
It was of this day's fighting that, almost a month later, Sir John French was able to say in his official dispatches:
"The action of the First Corps on this day under the direction and command of Sir Douglas Haig was of so skillful, bold, and decisive