CHAPTERVIII

chapterviii

farthersouththefront-linesofthe15th(scottish)divisionclimbedovertheirparapetsatsix-thirty,andsawtheopengroundbeforethem,andthedusky,palingskyabovethem,andbrokenwireinfrontoftheenemy'schurned-uptrenches;andthroughthesmoke,faintly,andfaraway,threeandahalfmilesaway,theghostlyoutlineofthe“towerbridge”ofloos,whichwastheirgoal.foranhourthereweresteadytidesofmenallstreamingslowlyupthosenarrowcommunicationways,cutthroughthechalktogetintothelightalso,wheredeathwasinambushformanyofthemsomewhereintheshadowsofthatdawn.

byseven-fortythetwoassaultingbrigadesofthe15thdivisionhadleftthetrenchesandwereintheopen.shrillerthanthescreamofshellsabovethemwastheskirlofpipes,goingwiththem.thepipemajorofthe8thgordonswasbadlywounded,butrefusedtobetoucheduntiltheothermenweretended.hewasagiant,toobigforastretcher,andhadtobecarriedbackonatarpaulin.atthedressing-stationhislegwasamputated,buthediedaftertwooperations,andthegordonsmournedhim.

whilethehighlanderswentforwardwiththeirpipes,twobrigadesofthelondoners,ontheirright,wereadvancinginthedirectionofthelong,doubleslagheap,southwestofloos,calledthedoublecrassier.someofthemwereblowingmouth-organs,playingthemusic-hallsongof“hullo,hullo,it'sadifferentgirlagain!”andthe“roberte.lee,”untiloneafteranotheramusicianfellinacrumpledheap.shrapnelburstoverthem,andhereandthereshellsploweduptheearthwheretheyweretrudging.ontherightofthelondonersthefrenchstillstayedintheirtrenches—theirownattackwaspostponeduntilmidday—andtheycheeredthelondonmen,astheywentforward,withcriesof,“viventlesangdais!”“amort—lesboches!”itwastheywhosawonemankickingafootballinadvanceoftheothers.

“heismad!”theysaid.“thepoorboyisalunatic!”

“heisnotmad,”saidafrenchofficerwhohadlivedinengland.“itisabeaugeste.heisasportsmanscornfulofdeath.thatisthebritishsport.”

itwasalondonirishmandribblingafootballtowardthegoal,andhehelditforfourteenhundredyards—thebest-kickedgoalinhistory.

manymenfellinthefivehundredyardsofnoman'sland.buttheywerenotmissedthenbythosewhowentoninwaves—rather,likemolecules,separating,collecting,splittingupintosmallergroups,bunchingtogetheragain,onthewaytothefirstlineofgermantrenches.aglintofbayonetsmadeaquicksethedgealongthelineofchurned-upearthwhichhadbeenthegermans'front—linetrench.ourgunshadcutthewireortorngapsintoit.throughthebrokenstrandswentthelondonersontheright,thescotsontheleft,shoutinghoarselynow.theysawred.theywerehuntersofhumanflesh.theyswarmeddownintothefirstlongditch,tramplingoverdeadbodies,fallingoverthem,clawingtheearthandscramblinguptheparados,allbrokenandcrumbled,thenonagaintoanotherditch.boysdroppedwithbulletsintheirbrains,throats,andbodies.germanmachine-gunswereatworkatcloserange.

“give'emhell!”saidanofficerofthelondoners—aboyofnineteen.therewerealotoflivinggermansinthesecondditch,andinholesabout.someofthemstoodstill,asthoughturnedtoclay,untiltheyfellwithhalfthelengthofabayonetthroughtheirstomachs.othersshriekedandranalittlewaybeforetheydied.otherssatbehindhillocksofearth,sprayingourmenwithmachine-gunbulletsuntilbombswerehurledonthemandtheywerescatteredintolumpsofflesh.

threelinesoftrenchweretaken,andthelondonersandthescotswentforwardagaininaspatetowardloos.allthewayfromouroldlinesmenwerestreamingup,withshellsburstingamongthemornearthem.

onthewaytoloosacompanyofscotscamefacetofacewithatallgerman.hewasstone-dead,withabulletinhisbrain,hisfaceallblackenedwiththegrimeofbattle;buthestooderectinthepath,wedgedsomehowinabitoftrench.thescotsstaredatthisfigure,andtheirlinepartedandswepteachsideofhim,asthoughsomeobscenespecterbarredtheway.rankafterrankstreamedup,andthenabigtideofmenpouredthroughthegermantrenchsystemsandrushedforward.three—quartersofamilemoretoloos.someofthemwerepanting,outofbreath,speechless.otherstalkedtothemenabouttheminstraysentences.mostofthemweresilent,staringaheadofthemandlickingtheirlipswithswollentongues.theywereparchedwiththirst,someofthemtoldme.manystoppedtodrinkthelastdropoutoftheirwater-bottles.asonemandrankhespunroundandfellwithathudonhisface.machine-gunbulletswerewhippinguptheearth.fromlooscamealoudandconstantrattleofmachine-guns.machine-gunswerefiringoutofthebrokenwindowsofthehousesandfromthetopofthe“towerbridge,”thosesteelgirderswhichrosethreehundredfeethighfromthecenterofthevillage,andfromslittrenchesacrossthenarrowstreets.therewereonehundredmachine-gunsinthecemeterytothesouthwestofthetown,pouringoutleaduponthelondonerswhohadtopassthatplace.

scotsandlondonmenweremixedup,andmingledincrowdswhichencircledloos,andforcedtheirwayintothevillage;butroughlystill,andinthemass,theywerescotswhoassaultedloositself,andlondonmenwhowentsouthofittothechalk-pitsandthedoublecrassier.

itwaseighto'clockinthemorningwhenthefirstcrowdsreachedthevillage,andfornearlytwohoursafterwardtherewasstreet-fighting.

itwasthefightingofmenintheopen,armedwithbayonets,rifles,andbombs,againstmeninvisibleandinhiding,withmachine-guns.smallgroupsofscots,likepacksofwolves,prowledaroundthehouses,wherethelowerroomsandcellarswerecrammedwithgermans,trappedandterrified,butstilldefendingthemselves.insomeofthehousestheywouldnotsurrender,afraidofcertaindeath,anyhow,andkeptthescotsatbayawhileuntilthosekiltedmenflungthemselvesinandkilledtheirenemytothelastman.outsidethosered-brickhouseslaydeadandwoundedscots.insidetherewerethecursesandscreamsofabloodyvengeance.inotherhousesthemachine-gungarrisonsceasedfireandputwhiteragsthroughthebrokenwindows,andsurrenderedlikesheep.soitwasinonehouseenteredbyalittlekiltedsignaler,whoshotdownthreemenwhotriedtokillhim.thirtyothersheldtheirhandsupandsaid,inachorusoffear,“kamerad!kamerad!”

acompanyofthe8thgordonswereamongthefirstintoloos,ledbysomeofthosehighlandofficersihavementionedonanotherpage.itwas“honestjohn”wholedonecrowdofthem,andheclaimsnow,withalaugh,thathegainedhismilitarycrossforsavingthelivesoftwohundredgermans.“ioughttohavegottheroyalhumanesociety'smedal,”hesaid.thosegermans—poles,really,fromsilesia—cameswarmingoutofahousewiththeirhandsup.butthegordonshadtastedblood.theywerehungryforit.theywerepantingandshouting,withredbayonets,behindtheirofficer.

thatyoungmanthoughtdeeplyandquickly.iftherewere“noquarter”itmightbeuglyforthegordonslaterintheday,andthedaywasyoung,andlooswasstilluntaken.

hestoodfacinghisownmen,orderedthemsternlytokeepsteady.thesemenweretobetakenprisonersandsentbackunderescort.hehadhisrevolverhandy,and,anyhow,themenknewhim.theyobeyed,grumblingsullenly.

therewasthenoiseoffireinotherpartsofthevillage,andthetap-tap-tapofmachine-gunsfrommanycellars.bombing-partiesofscotssilencedthosemachine-gunnersatlastbygoingtotheheadofthestairwaysandflingingdowntheirhand-grenades.thecellarsoflooswerefullofdead.

inoneofthem,hoursafterthefightinghadceasedamongtheruinsofthevillage,andthelineoffirewasforwardofhill70,alivingmanstillhidandcarriedonhiswork.thecolonelofoneofourforwardbattalionscameintolooswithhissignalersandrunners,andestablishedhisheadquartersinahousealmostuntouchedbyshell-fire.atthetimetherewasverylittleshelling,astheartilleryofficersoneithersidewereafraidofkillingtheirownmen,andthehouseseemedfairlysafeforthepurposeofatemporarysignal-station.

butthecolonelnoticedthatshortlyafterhisarrivalheavyshellsbegantofallverycloseandthegermansobviouslywereaimingdirectlyforthisbuilding.heorderedthecellarstobesearched,andthreegermanswerefound.itwasonlyafterhehadbeeninthehouseforfortyminutesthatinadeepercellar,whichhadnotbeenseenbefore,thediscoverywasmadeofagermanofficerwhowastelephoningtohisownbatteriesanddirectingtheirfire.suspectingthatthecolonelandhiscompanionswereimportantofficersdirectinggeneraloperations,hehadcausedtheshellstofalluponthehouseknowingthataluckyshotwouldmeanhisowndeathaswellastheirs.

asoursearcherscameintothecellar,heroseandstoodthere,waiting,withacolddignity,forthefatewhichheknewwouldcometohim,asitdid.hewasaverybraveman.

anothergermanofficerremainedhidinginthechurch,whichwassoheavilyminedthatitwouldhaveblownhalfthevillageintodustandashesifhehadtouchedoffthecharges.hewasfumblingatthejobwhenourmenfoundandkilledhim.

inthesouthernoutskirtsofloos,andinthecemetery,thelondonershadabloodyfightamongthetombstones,wherenestsofgermanmachine-gunshadbeenbuiltintothevaults.newcorpses,stillbleeding,layamongolddeadtornfromtheircoffinsbyshell-fire.londonersandsiiesiangermanslaytogetheracrossoneanother'sbodies.thelondonmenroutedoutmostofthemachine-gunnersandbayonetedsomeandtookprisonersofothers.theywerenotsofierceasthescots,butinthosehoursforgottheflower-gardensinstreathamandtootingbecandthemannersofsuburbandrawingrooms...itisstrangethatonegermanmachine-gun,servedbyfourmen,remainedhiddenbehindagravestoneallthroughthatday,andsaturday,andsunday,andsnipedstraymenofoursuntilroutedatlastbymoppers-upoftheguardsbrigade.

asthelondonerscamedowntheslopetothesouthernedgeofloosvillage,throughathickhazeofsmokefromshell-fireandburninghouses,theywereastoundedtomeetacrowdofcivilians,mostlywomenandchildren,whocamestreamingacrosstheopeninpanic-strickengroups.someofthemfellundermachine-gunfiresnappingfromthehousesorundershrapnelburstingoverhead.thewomenwereardandgaunt,withwildeyesandwildhair,likewitches.theyheldtheirchildrenintightclawsuntiltheywerenearoursoldiers,whentheyallsetupashrillcryingandwailing.thechildrenweredazedwithterror.othercivilianscrawledupfromtheircellarsinloos,spatteredwithgermanblood,andwanderedaboutamongsoldiersofmanybritishbattalionswhocrowdedamidthescarredandshatteredhouses,andamongthewoundedmenwhocameeringthroughthestreets,wherearmydoctorsweregivingfirstaidintheroadway,whileshellswereburstingoverheadandalltheroarofthebattlefilledtheairformilesaroundwithinfernaltumult.

isolatedgermansstillkeptsnipingfromsecretplaces,andsomeofthemfiredatadressing-stationinthemarket-place,untilafrenchgirl,afterwarddecoratedforvalor—shewascalledtheladyofloosbylondonersandscots—borrowedarevolverandshottwoofthemdeadinaneighboringhouse.thenshecamebacktothesoupshewasmakingforwoundedmen.

someofthegermanprisonerswereimpressedasstretcher-bearers,andone,“jock,”hadcompelledfourgermanstocarryhimin,whilehelaytalkingtotheminbroadestscots,grinningdespitehisbloodandwounds.

alondonlieutenantcalledouttoastretcher-bearerhelpingtocarrydownagermanofficer,andwasastoundedtobegreetedbythewoundedman.

“hullo,leslie!...iknewweshouldmeetoneday.”

lookingattheman'sface,thelondonersawitwashisowncousin...therewasallthedramaofwarinthatdirtyvillageofloos,whichreekedwiththesmellofdeaththen,andyearslater,wheniwentwalkingthroughitonanotherdayofwar,afteranotherbattleonhill70,beyond.