The Post of Honour. Richard Wilson
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It was at Mons in Belgium that the British soldiers first met the Germans. They were outnumbered by three to one; and they were therefore forced to fall back till fresh troops could be brought up to their assistance.
But they put up a glorious fight as they fell slowly back to a better position for making an advance; and the story of Mons and afterwards is so full of accounts of brave deeds that it is not easy to choose from among them.
The name of Captain Grenfell, however, stands out boldly on the roll of honour; and the story of his winning of the Victoria Cross is one of the finest in the history of the British Army.
At half-past ten one morning, the Second British Cavalry Brigade received a welcome order. They were to “charge for the guns” as the Light Brigade had been ordered to do at Balaklava in the Crimean War. The order was received with the greatest glee, for the troopers had waited for three days listening to the roar of the guns but taking no part in the great fight.
The men were the 9th Lancers, 18th Hussars, and 4th Dragoons. On they rode, singing, shouting, cheering; but they had not ridden far before some of the riders dropped from their saddles while their horses galloped away. The rest set their teeth, gripped their lances more tightly and urged on their horses until the thunder of the iron-shod hoofs seemed to drown that of the German guns.
All at once, a merciless fire broke out from a number of machine-guns which had been cleverly hidden on their flank, about 150 yards away. The withering fire swept their close-set ranks and men and horses fell in scores; but there was no faltering among the rest. Onward they rode, careless of the ceaseless hail of bullets and of the shells which now burst round them from the heavy guns ahead.
At last they reached the German battery, and what happened there is thus described by a German soldier:—
“We were outside Mons in open country,” he said, “with a clump of hills before us, when a troop of howling, yelling men with lances came racing round a hill and then straight for us. Your artillery and your infantry, yes, they are like ourselves and we can fight them, but these lancers;—ach!
“We were four to one of them, but in a flash they were on us and through us! And there were not more than fifty of them. Every one of them speared a man—I got this in the shoulder—and some of our horses went over. Before we could re-form or get ready, they came dashing back, yelling like furies, and they went through us again. This time they stayed with us longer. … I will never meet them again, please you!”
The stern work was over, but the British cavalry had paid a heavy price to silence the German guns. The men who were left now looked about for cover, and soon found it behind a railway embankment; but they also found in this place a company of men of the Royal Field Artillery whose guns had been knocked out of action.
Captain Grenfell was among the surviving officers of the 9th Lancers, but he had been wounded in the thigh as well as in one hand. Weary and hurt as he was, the news that British guns were in danger of capture roused him to further efforts. Without a moment’s delay, he rode off into the fire zone to make observations.
Having satisfied himself that the guns could be drawn off he came back—at a slow pace, in order to give courage to his men. Then he asked for volunteers for the job, and got them too, for British soldiers always answer to the call to “save the guns.” “It’s all right,” he said simply, “they can’t hit us. Come along!”
The men loosed their horses and followed the captain on foot. In a few minutes they set off at the double heedless of the flying bullets and bursting shells, and came at last to the first guns which they quickly hauled out of danger. They went back again and again until all the precious guns were safe.
It was for his bravery on this day that Captain Grenfell was awarded the Victoria Cross—one of the first to be awarded in the Great War. At a later period of the war he was killed in action.
BRITISH SAILORS WHO KNEW HOW TO DIE
The British Navy suffered several heavy losses during the early stages of the war. Off the Isle of May in the Firth of Forth the Pathfinder was cruising about when an enemy submarine came along, a torpedo was launched, and the cruiser was struck and sank with great loss of life. The men who were afterwards picked up had then been in the water for more than an hour. About a week later, however, the British submarine E9 gave blow for blow by sinking a German cruiser about six miles from Heligoland.
When the Pathfinder was struck the order was given, “Every man for himself.” In a few moments the water was full of struggling swimmers. One petty officer was a very strong swimmer and did all he could to help others who were not so strong as himself.
As soon as he found himself in the water he swam about among his mates helping them to lay hold of spars and pieces of wreckage. In time he got together a group of eleven men and kept cheering them up and making them as secure as he could. Some of them had only their heads and shoulders above the water; and four of them sank while trying to raise themselves to get a better hold.
Meanwhile several boats were racing across the water to pick up the exhausted men. When they came up, the poor fellows had to be dragged on board; and even the hardy and heroic petty officer was too much spent to help himself.
Only a few days passed and our Navy suffered a still heavier loss. The three cruisers Aboukir, Hogue, and Cressy were on patrol work in the North Sea and were steaming along three miles apart, through a choppy sea. All at once the first cruiser was seen to reel and then settle down sideways. She had been struck by a torpedo.
The Cressy and the Hogue immediately closed in to save life while the men on the sinking ship tried to lower one of their boats. But they were not able to do so, and they ran or slid over the hull of the vessel into the water.
Just as the Aboukir was heeling over, the Hogue was struck in two places. The great ship reared up in the water like a charger upon its hind legs, and quivered all over. Then she settled down, and sank in a few minutes, leaving the greater part of her crew in the water. But, strangely enough, as she went down, she righted herself, and two of her boats becoming detached, floated from her. The boats were soon filled and were the means of saving many lives.
It was now the turn of the Cressy, which had come up and was standing by for rescue work. She was struck by two torpedoes and sank almost at once. Two Dutch ships and a British trawler picked up as many men as they could crowd on board and made for the English coast. The total loss on the ships was 1500 men.
Even in this terrible disaster, the men of the British Navy were “ready, aye ready” when all that was now asked of them was that they should die like heroes.
SOME OF THE FIRST V.C.’S
When the Great War broke out in August 1914 the Victoria Cross had not been conferred for ten years. But it was not long before the newspapers began to report one deed after another of “signal valour and devotion performed in the presence of the enemy.”
The heroic spirit of the British Army and Navy was as strong as ever; and, of course, the greatness of the struggle gave our men more chances of performing deeds of heroism than they had ever had before.
During the first five months of the war, twenty-eight Crosses were awarded; this was a large number, for the Cross is never given without a great deal of careful consideration. One hundred were awarded during the first eighteen months. Let us see how some of these first Crosses were won, and how the earlier fighters set the example to all the rest.
In a military retreat or “withdrawal” it is important to place as many obstacles as possible in the path of the foe; and as soon as bridges have been safely crossed